


Death from the Shadows

by Heeley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-20 10:38:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8245979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heeley/pseuds/Heeley
Summary: Hermione Granger and Lucuis Malfoy find themselves trapped together during the final battle. They must put aside their hate and face a new enemy.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> For the purpose of this fic, Narcissa died giving birth to Draco. No reason, other than I didn't want her to complicate matters or be hovering in the background.

Chapter One

Hermione ducked as a hex flew past her ear. A murky yellow colour that fizzled and left a strip of heat across her cheek. She dropped to the ground, throwing up a hasty shield as she fought to control her rising panic. Around her the air was thick with dust and smoke, and it made every breath an effort not to choke or cough up her burning lungs. Using a pile of rubble to protect her back, she shuffled forward to give herself a moment to think. A moment to breathe.

Hogwarts was a tumbled down wreck with its missing roof and collapsed walls. Students who should have been safe inside, were scattered on the floor in puddles of tar-thick blood. Shouts and screams filled the air, each noise seeping into the next until all that could be heard was one manic sound. Her frantic gaze sought out Harry and Ron, neither of whom she'd seen since Ron and her had managed to destroy the Horcrux. And kissed. Her mouth still tingled from that hasty wet clash of lips. So sweet and innocent and unexpected.

But she couldn't think of that. Not now. Not with Death Eaters throwing vile curses in every direction, illuminating the sky in rainbow colours. It would have been pretty if it weren't so deadly. She quickly reinforced her shield when a black robed, masked figure spotted her crouching form. Her breath stilled and fear circled her heart as a wand was raised and pointed straight at her.

"Stupefy!" She yelled.

The Death Eater fell to the ground with a dull thud that kicked up a cloud of dust. Hermione rushed forward, tearing the wand from his slack grip and throwing it aside. And then instantly regretted the decision. She shook her head and stumbled forward, searching for her friends. Blood, death, and pain were everywhere she looked. She ran, dodging curses and throwing her own, concentrating on power rather than aim.

Then finally she saw an area of calm amongst the chaos. The eye of the storm. In its centre were Harry and Voldemort. Two wizards, silently regarding each other with utter hatred. Hermione stumbled forward, eyes fixed on the sight before her. This was it. The moment of reckoning. A final duel to end to all those long years of fear and worry.

She pushed her way to the front. Heart thudding in the cage of her chest, head spinning with a thousand words she wanted to say to Harry, that she wished she'd told him many times over. She wanted to tell him that she believed in him, that she trusted that he could end this. But most of all she wished she could tell him that she loved him.

The tension saturating the air was a solid thing that pressed against her, holding her quivering body in place. Every bit of her attention was fixed on the sight before her. She was barely even aware that she was standing next to a Death Eater whose velvet black robes were brushing her ankles in a soft caress.

"The time has come for you to die, Harry Potter." Voldemort's sibilant voice stroked the air. Full of arrogance and threat as he altered the grip on his wand and prepared to cast.

Harry merely narrowed his eyes, the green darkening to almost black as he shifted his feet the smallest amount and sought a firmer stance. Holding his wand perfectly still, he aimed for the Dark Lord's chest. Hermione had never been more proud or scared for him in her entire life.

And then suddenly Voldemort broke the stalemate, spitting a curse that filled the night with bright red light. Harry deflected. The deadly spell hit the ground at his feet where it spit up the earth and left a shallow crater in its wake.

Hermione shivered. Her grip on her wand was sweaty and tight with the urge to cast and the need to do something to help. Anything. Instead, she stood frozen in place, breathing in the cold air that was turning her heart into an icy lump. She didn't even blink as Harry and Voldemort threw curse after curse at each other. Each one more deadly than the last. They parried back and forth, searching for an opening, a way to bypass the other's shield and deliver the killing blow. That single curse needed to end it all. For both sides.

A hex got through, splitting the skin of Harry's thigh almost to the bone. Horror constricted her throat, trapping the air in her lungs as her friend stumbled to his knees and his head dropped to his chest. Blood pulsed from the wound to pool on the ground beneath him. A chuckle of delight fell from Voldemort's lips, echoed by the surrounding Death Eaters.

"Oh, Harry, is that really the best that you can do?" the Dark Lord taunted as he stalked towards his kneeling opponent, robes floating around him, feather-light, as he came to a stop only a few feet from Harry.

Tears filled her eyes as Harry struggled to his feet. "Come closer and I'll tell you!" he spat. The years of hatred dripping from his familiar voice made it almost unrecognizable to her.

Hermione's wand dug into her palm as she prepared to cast. It would act only as a distraction, and more than likely cost her life, but it might just give Harry the advantage he needed.

Her lips parted, a curse ready to fall from her tongue, when the most horrendous sound filled the air. A high-pitched rattling shriek that raised the hair on the back of her neck. All movement stopped as every head tipped back to look at the sky. Hermione's heart dropped into her stomach as terror took its place. The air above them was filled with Dementors. Hundreds upon hundreds of them were floating effortlessly in place, the icy wind ruffling the tattered edges of their deep black robes.

Hermione trembled as the atmosphere slowly thickened into one of despair. The Dementors' presence settled onto them like gentle rain.

"Ah, my friends have come to witness your demise, Harry." Voldemort could barely contain his delight, his horrible blood-red eyes flashing with childlike glee.

Harry struggled to his feet, swaying from loss of blood and magical fatigue. His face was pale, his almost gray lips set in a grim line and his bottle-green eyes were glassy with pain. "I'm not dead yet."

"Soon Harry, so very soon." Voldemort's soft whisper stroked the air.

A tear slipped free, trickling down Hermione's cheek to drip onto her chest. She swallowed, wetting her dry mouth and once again prepared to cast. But before she could utter a single sound, a swath of darkness rolled towards them from the horizon. It looked like a huge black wave seeking to engulf them.

Voldemort's serpentine head twisted to the side, confusion written clearly on every feature. Harry mirrored the move, and because they were both looking to the side, neither one of them noticed the Dementors dropping from the sky, soft as snowflakes.

"Harry!" Hermione's shout cut through the silence. A panicked yelp that drew all eyes to the Dementors' stealthy attack. But it was far too late. Harry and Voldemort were surrounded. Black shadows were circling them in a macabre carousel. And then the Dementors...attacked. Not just Harry, but Voldemort too.

She blinked, confusion sliding over her skin as she lost sight of them. The Dementors were spreading like smoke through the clearing. But her puzzlement lasted a mere second before fear took over, clogging her throat tightly. The black wave of darkness was now close enough that she could see what it was. Inferi. An army of reanimated corpses speeding towards them. They hit Harry and Voldemort head on, slipping through the Dementors, that encircled the two wizards like oil.

The scream of rage the Dark Lord let loose was ear splitting as he fired off a flurry of curses. And then a pillar of fire erupted from the centre, bright orange and so fierce that she could feel the heat licking at her skin. The Inferi and Dementors fell back, screeching and rasping as they regrouped, only to attack again, overwhelming the wizards. A Patronus flared from the centre of the chaos. Harry's stag. Almost immediately it faded into a wispy fog before it disappeared altogether. The last thing she saw before she spun away were Voldemort and Harry, side by side on the ground, being torn apart by Inferi. Blood spraying into the air, bones snapping and skin ripping.

Every single witch, wizard, student, Death Eater and Order member, stood in numbed horror. Confusion showed on all of their faces. The silence was absolute. A long, tense second passed. And then a scream cut through the air. High-pitched and full of pain.

It was that sound, that howl as some unnamed person was pulled into death, that snapped everyone out of their stupor. Curses were cast, once again painting the night, as witches and wizards ran from a common enemy.

Hermione stepped back, taking one last desperate look at her friend. He was on the floor, covered by Inferi. Not a speck of him was visible except a tuft of black hair. Bile rose in her throat as she realized they were eating him, ripping pieces of flesh from his body with their gray, decayed teeth. She spun away, pressing an icy hand to her mouth as she ran. Her legs were shaking as though made of noodles. Everyone seemed to be heading in the same direction. Towards the wards that prevented apparation within Hogwarts' grounds.

The breath was sawing in and out of her parched throat as she ran and had to jump over broken furniture, dodging huge piles of rubble that threatened to topple over at any second. Above, the Dementors streaked through the night sky. Circling and spiraling down to ensnare their unsuspecting victims. She ran faster than she ever had in her entire life, zigzagging her way to the wards.

A rattling breath touched her neck. Ice cold and metallic. Instinct made her drop. Her palms slid across the gravel-strewn floor as her knees hit the ground, making pain travel up her thighs and into her hips. She spun, wand half-raised in her burning hand.

A Dementor hovered so closely above her that her breath stirred the folds of its robe. A touch, cold and moist, pressed against the hollow of her cheek and pushed her head up and back. The world around her receded into a distant blur. Empty eye sockets gazed into her own and the rattling sound of air being sucked in through a lipless mouth reached her ears as cold death settled on top of her. Her jumbled thoughts faded to nothing as a feeling of despair crawled slowly up the length of her spine.

Her eyes fluttered closed, soul spilling out of her with her breath. And then a flash of brilliant white. So bright that it made her eyes burn even though they were still closed.

"Hermione?" said a soft, lilting voice.

She opened her eyes to see Luna Lovegood bending over her. Her hair was a blonde cloak upon her shoulders and her face held an oddly serene expression. "What happened?" Hermione winced at the groggy sound of her voice.

"You were attacked by a Dementor." She held out a pale, slim hand, "You have to get up, it isn't safe to stay here."

Hermione took the proffered hand, trying to shake off the weak, disorientated feeling that was weighing down her limbs. The chaotic screeching increased in volume as she came fully back into herself. A tug on her hand had her stumbling forward, shadowing Luna so closely she could feel the heat coming off her skin and the soft slap of her hair as it tapped against her front.

They ran, only stopping to cast when their way was blocked. Luna used her Patronus while Hermione threw Incendios. The combination seemed to work, because it forced the attacking Dementors and Inferi to back off. Not all the way, but just enough so they could slip by.

Hermione's eyes kept darting around, never staying in one spot for more than a second. Everywhere she looked she was greeted with the awful sight of witches and wizards having their souls sucked out or their flesh devoured. She was ice cold, fear formed a heavy lump in her chest.

And then suddenly, a solid...something...knocked into Luna and caused the slight witch to tumble to the ground. They heard the sound of her wand snap with a fatal crack. It happened so fast that for a moment Hermione just stood there, blinking stupidly at the space in front of her. But then she quickly twisted to the side, wand raised and pointed at the Inferius perched on top of the blonde. A wet belch left its decaying flesh, filling the air with the smell of death. Bones cracked as it reared its head back.

An Incendio was on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't dare cast it and risk hitting Luna. She tried a Stupefy spell, but its hands were digging into Luna's waist, fingers breaking through her skin, taking the blonde with it as it flew back. A pained grunt left Luna as Hermione rushed forward, and into the waiting arms of a Dementor.

She spun, diving to the right, yelling "Expecto Patronum!" A silver mist left the tip of her wand, wispy and almost see-through in places. Her Otter didn't form. Not surprising after everything she'd seen. She narrowed her eyes, blanking out Luna's agonized whimpers, focusing instead on her happy memory as hard as possible. She thought of the day she received the letter inviting her to attend Hogwarts. Hermione had never felt so delighted in all her life. The Excitement. The Possibilities. The Knowledge.

Her Patronus solidified, but still didn't fully form. It was, however, enough to scare the Dementor off. As soon as it was gone, Hermione looked back at Luna. Blood. So much blood. The Inferius had its head buried in her stomach. Luna was pushing at it with weak hands, her blue eyes staring at the star-speckled sky.

Hermione did the only thing she could think of, she ran at the Inferius and wrapped her hands around its slimy neck, tearing it off of Luna.

"Incendio!" A blast of white-hot heat shot from her wand, hitting the Inferius on its blood-streaked chest.

Squealing, it scuttled away to hide in the shadow of an upturned table. As she lifted her gaze, her eyes fell onto a stout wooden door banded with steel that led to an old classroom. The door and the walls surrounding it looked intact.

Hermione turned back to face Luna, blinking away tears as her gaze fell on the seeping blood and gore. Looping her arms under Luna's, she dragged her quickly towards the door, stopping when her bum hit the wood. As she reached blindly for the handle, her fingers slipped on the pitted wood, knuckles meeting steel with a painful sting. Finally, her palm closed over the rust-tinged handle. She pushed.

It didn't move.

She muttered a curse and turned, propping Luna up against her knees. "Alohomora!"

Click.

Her breath shuddered out as she pushed the door open and felt the dry air press against her. Another tug and they were both inside. Hermione gently placed Luna on the ground, before she slammed the door shut with a resounding thud. Blessed silence engulfed her as she knelt down next to Luna.

"Now, who do we have here?" said a cold voice. It slid over her skin, sharp enough to cut her flesh in two.

Hermione spun around, eyes darting to the room's darkened corners, heart beating a frantic rhythm. "Who is that?"

No response.

"Show yourself!"

A shadow moved in the darkness, a flash of pale skin and silver-white hair. And then out stepped Lucius Malfoy.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Hermione's heart almost stopped beating at the sight of him. At the conceit that hovered on his face, ready to be called up at a moment's notice.

"What now, my dear?" he asked. Silver-blonde hair slid over his shoulders as his head tilted in apparent interest.

She wasn't fooled in the slightest. He could arrange his face into whatever expression he wished for the world to see. But those cold, grey eyes would always betray his true nature. Heartless. Cruel. Unfeeling.

"Stay back!" she warned, raising her wand between them.

A meaningless smile formed on his lips. "As you wish," he said, voice meticulously polite as he eased back against the wall. Resplendent in his arrogance.

Hermione's eyes narrowed suspiciously at his easy compliance. But then suddenly all thought was forgotten as Luna let out a low, pained groan. She spun around, cast a Lumos and dropped to her knees.

"The light will draw those creatures to us," Lucius murmured softly.

She ignored him, eyes fixed on the witch before her. Horror chilled her to the bones. Luna was... bad. From the waist down she looked like she'd been dipped in blood. And there was a gaping hole in her stomach, surrounded by ragged pieces of flesh. It was big enough that Hermione could see the loops of her intestines. Grey-tinged flesh against bright red blood. So much blood. It was still pulsing and spilling onto the floor. Her hand shook as she put it against the wound, gagging as her fingers slid on something slimy. The air reeked of metal and rot.

"It's not looking good, is it?" Luna's gentle voice broke through her panic.

Hermione's eyes darted to the blonde witch's face. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent and her blue eyes seemed glassy and unfocused. "You'll be okay, Luna. I'll...we just need to cast some healing charms."

"Come now, no healing spell will cure that amount of damage. The girl is done for." Lucius' careless voice reached her ears. The truth of his words embedded themselves in her heart like jagged pieces of glass. He was right.

"Shut up!" Hermione hissed. "And don't just stand there! Do something!" Desperate tears leaked free as she spun to face Malfoy.

His icy eyes cut through her like a blade, face wiped clean of any emotion. "Speak to me like that again, my dear, and you will join your friend in death."

Hermione choked back a frustrated sob. There was no hint of mercy lurking beyond the cruel disdain his eyes displayed. He was cold, untouchable and utterly without kindness. She twisted back to face Luna, aware of the warm flow of sticky blood that seeped through her fingers.

If only she had her bag. The tiny beaded purse everyone made fun of, but would contain everything she needed to heal Luna. But it was lost in the heat of battle. The strap had snapped free from her shoulder and was left behind in the mad dash to escape the tidal wave of water that sought to drown her and Ron. A glance around showed nothing of any use as she returned her helpless gaze to the dying witch.

"It's okay," Luna whispered, "I'm not afraid."

Hermione's heart broke in two as despair settled in her heart. Every breath she took was an effort. "I'm so sorry," she gasped, reaching down to take Luna's hand. It was cold. Icy. And when she looked more closely, her fingernails were tinged faintly blue.

A loud thump shook the door, followed by a wet rasp. Lucius cursed as he strode forward and withdrew his wand from the snake-headed cane in one effortless move. He came to a stop a step away from her, robes billowing out to brush her side as he studied the door through narrowed eyes.

Hermione shifted her own wand so that the light hit the heavily pitted door. A half inch gap showed at the bottom. A gap through which Luna's blood was slowly trickling out of. Horror seized her as a mucus-filled snort came from the gap. And then...oh, Merlin...a thick tongue, grey and slug-like, wriggled into view and began lapping up the blood. The creature was banging and scratching at the door, trying to get through. Wanting more.

Hermione tore her gaze away to seek out Luna's eyes. The blonde was fading fast, breath slowing with each passing second. Her eyes repeatedly fluttered shut, only to open a few moments later to stare sightlessly at the ceiling. She was dimly aware of Lucius warding the door above her, but his words and movements were indistinct. As if viewed through thick fog or an opaque piece of glass. All of her attention was focused on Luna. On giving what comfort she could.

"It's okay. Close your eyes. I'll stay with you," she whispered, bending low so she could speak directly into Luna's ear.

A small smile curved her paper-white lips and the sight of it brought instant tears to Hermione's eyes. She tightened her grip on the cold hand she held in her grasp and blinked. Tears spilled over to land on their linked fingers.

"Thank you for being my friend," Hermione managed to choke out past her tight, burning throat with her gaze fixed on Luna's serene expression.

She couldn't say how, but Hermione knew the precise moment Luna died. It wasn't when her chest stopped moving, or when the seeping blood turned into a faint trickle. But a fraction of a second before her heart ceased to beat. Hermione just knew that Luna was gone. The hand she held felt different. The calm face was empty. Lifeless. She just wasn't there anymore. Nothing was there but an empty body that had once contained Luna.

Hermione's eyes blurred as grief surged through her. Not just for Luna, but for Harry also. Harry who was now...gone. It was so intense that for a brief moment all she could do was gasp. Sucking great lungfuls of stale air into burning lungs. She bent over, pressing a hand to her queasy stomach, fighting the sudden urge to be sick. Tears fell from her eyes in an endless stream, dropping onto her knees and soaking into her jeans where they left dark patches.

Everything became dull and fuzzy and she couldn't breathe. She couldn't even think as the room around her began to spin. Her skin tingled and she had the awful feeling that she was about to pass out.

"Must you?" Lucius said, biting each word cleanly off. "Tears will not bring back your friends and they are so very tiresome to hear."

Hermione heard the words. Heard the unspoken order to stiffen her upper lip. To save her tears until she was alone. She even managed to dredge up a tiny bit of outrage at the callous way he delivered them. But she couldn't seem to pull herself out of the hole that she found herself in. A hole that got deeper and darker with each passing second.

And then suddenly she felt an icy cold touch beneath her chin. Sharp enough to cut. It forced her jaw up with unyielding pressure. Up. Up. Her eyes dropped down, sliding along the length of his black-lacquered cane, wincing as the silver snakehead bit into her skin. Her gaze rose to meet steely grey.

"Pull yourself together, Miss Granger," Lucius murmured, "this is neither the time nor the place for such dramatics. It is both distasteful and unnecessary."

His words broke through the stifling grief that was threatening to choke her. And as much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. Falling apart wasn't a luxury she could afford at this moment. Harry and Luna were dead. Dissolving into tears wouldn't bring them back. And it didn't mean Ron was dead, or that Ginny or Remus or Tonks were. They might be searching for her this very moment.

She raised her shaky, blood-covered hand and pushed his cane aside. Eyes still fixed on his impassive face, she refused to cower before him like one of his elves. A pale brow rose as a sneer twisted his lips.

"The body will have to be disposed of. It cannot stay here." His cultured tone grated on her nerves.

Hermione switched her gaze back to Luna. She looked asleep. Only she wasn't. She wouldn't ever fall asleep in this world again. Her eyes rose to the door, where she could still hear the shifting form of...something waiting just outside, looking for a way to get in and feast on Luna. She swallowed the rising bile and shook her head. No. Luna would not be placed beyond that door to be offered up like a piece of meat.

She nibbled on her lower lip as she frantically tried to think of a spell that would preserve Luna until she could be buried. Perhaps a blanketing charm layered upon a stasis spell. But that would only work for so long. And it wouldn't actually stop the Inferi from sensing the blood; or Luna. Magic only worked on Inferi and Dementors to a certain extent. They were going to be in real trouble if the creatures didn't clear out on their own.

Another large bang. This one caused the door to shake and the steel hinges to creak alarmingly. Lucius' ward was the only thing keeping them safe. Hermione backed away, feet scraping the rough stone floor.

"Well?" His silken voice was edged with impatience. "As much as it pains me to say it, we do not have all day."

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she tried to come up with a solution that wouldn't end with Lucius dumping Luna's body outside. Her eyes burned with the desire to cry. Burned. That would work. The room was big enough that a well-aimed Incendio would do it. If she could channel enough power into it, Luna would be burned to ash. Ash, she could take with her. Ash the Inferi wouldn't eat.

Hermione spun to face Lucius, jaw set stubbornly against the upcoming fight she knew was on its way. "I'm going to burn her."

The pale-haired wizard tipped his head back, looking down his nose at her. "I've never heard such a foolish idea. I had heard rumours of your intelligence," he said, letting his eyes slowly peruse her in one long appraisal full of disdain. "Clearly, they were mistaken."

Her eyes narrowed, brown eyes flashing with indignant anger. An expression her friends knew well to be cautious of. "Regardless. I'm going through with it."

"I think not," he snapped, pushing her carelessly aside and striding towards Luna. His expensive dragonhide boots thudded on the floor while his heavy, black cloak swayed in time with his precise footsteps.

"Don't you dare put your hands on her!" Hermione hissed, pointing her wand at him with a trembling hand.

Lucius twisted to face her, looking coolly amused. "My dear girl, do you really want to do this?"

Hermione's fingers tightened on her wand. "Of course not, but that doesn't mean that I won't."

"So it's to be war between us?" Lucius asked, smiling maliciously.

Hermione shrugged with forced indifference. "Has it ever not been?"

"Ah." A step forward. "It doesn't have to be that way." Another step. This one bigger, bringing him nearer.

"Don't."

A small, secret smile. "Don't what, Hermione?"

Her name on his lips felt like sandpaper against her skin. Unwanted. Almost painful. Her pulse sped up, adrenaline making her fidget.

"You know what!" she snapped, backing up to increase the distance between them. The door shuddered again. Louder than before. Wood splintered with a terrifying sound. Her head swung to the side. Wide-eyed she waited to see if the Inferi would try again. Surely if they did the door wouldn't hold. The ward needed strengthening, although even then she knew it wouldn't hold forever.

His breath touched her cheek. Feather-light and warm. Her head whipped around, eyes coming face to face with the pale column of Lucius' throat, silver-white hair lay in silken strands on his shoulders.

Hermione immediately stumbled, her back hitting the wall with a painful thud. Lucius followed her, no more than a hair's breath separating them. Warm heat enveloped her as his hand traced up the outside of her thigh to rest in the curve of her waist.

"Now, my dear, this is how it's going to be." His cold voice was devoid of emotion, yet still impeccably polite. "You will-"

"I won't," Hermione interrupted viciously. Seeing him fold his lips in annoyance and narrow his steel-grey eyes at her pleased her immensely. The hand on her waist tightened in silent warning, his fingers digging into her skin with bruising force. Hermione ignored him. Instead she raised her wand in a slow, steady motion, careful not to brush his side and let him know what she was planning. They continued to regard each other in silent challenge before Hermione pointed her wand at Luna.

"Incendio," she whispered.

A blast of heat hit them. Drying her damp cheeks and blowing silver hair across her face. Lucius snarled as he swung away, throwing up a hasty containment charm. Hermione sank to her knees, trembling so much she imagined that if it weren't for her skin, she'd shatter into a million pieces. Burning air pressed against her, scolding her throat with every breath she took.

The air reeked of burning flesh and smoke. The sizzling and popping noises of fat exploding were enough to make her press a hand to her mouth. Burning hot and gritty. Luna's body was disintegrating before her eyes, breaking down into grey ash.

She blinked, maintaining the charm for another ten seconds before dropping the wand to her side. Luna was reduced to a pile of dirty grey dust. The wall and floor surrounding her remains were smudged black. She took a disinterested look at the door. Intact. A little charred and the metal was warped in a few places, but intact. Her gaze settled on the toes of her boots. The left had a rust-coloured smear the size of her thumb near the sole.

"Stupid girl!" Lucius hissed, crossing the room to stand over her. "If you wish to risk your own life, then, by all means, step outside. I may even be persuaded to give you a push." He crouched down and his hand shot forward to push her into the wall, so that she could feel the rough stone biting into her spine. His fingers were squeezing her shoulder hard enough to break bones. "But do not dare to risk mine in such a way again."

Hermione closed her eyes her head hitting the wall. "I should have used a cushioning charm."

"What?"

"On Luna." She frowned, head feeling fuzzy and light. "It would have made her feel more comfortable before she..." Her words faded away, as did her vision as she slowly fell to the side and slipped into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter beta'd by CatherineMorgenstern, Thanks Lovely.


	3. Chapter Three

The first thing Hermione became aware of was how very cold she was. A brittle, icy cold that seeped into her bones and threatened to freeze her from the inside out. And then of how quiet it ad become. The only sound she could hear was her own soft breath and when she listened more closely; someone else's. Her eyes snapped open as panic constricted her throat.

"Awake at last," a deep arrogant voice said from the shadows.

Hermione struggled to her feet, frantically fumbling for her wand as she took in the room. Her eyes caught sight of a pile of grey ash just beside the door, and she immediately sank to her knees as everything came back to her. Harry. Luna. The Inferi and Dementors. Lucius Malfoy. Confusion jumbled her thoughts as she struggled to think clearly.

"I...how long was I out?" she asked, drawing her knees up to her chest for warmth and comfort.

She could hear the soft slide of fabric as Lucius shifted. "At least five hours."

Hermione sucked in a breath of dusty air. Her eyes searched the dim room. It was lit only by the watery light that filtered in from beneath the door and through a window the size of a shoebox high up on the wall. Too high to see out of. Below that Malfoy was reclining against the rough stone wall. He had his eyes closed and his head tipped back, pale hair falling in silky strands over his shoulders. His thick robes were gathered around him to ward off the chill.

"Have you heard anything else?" she asked.

A drawn-out sigh of irritation. "Screams. Shouts. But nothing in the last few hours."

"Are they still out there? The Dementors and Inferi?" she questioned further, teeth chattering from the cold that was almost painfully tightening her skin.

"By all means, my dear, feel free to go outside and check." His sardonic tone grated on her nerves. And when she dared to look, his steel-grey eyes were fixed on her with malice. It was the same expression he'd worn when Bellatrix had been torturing her at his Manor. Naturally, it had been replaced by distaste when she'd dared to bleed onto his pristine floor.

Hermione scoffed and turned away, her gaze returning to the pile of ash that was once Luna Lovegood. She nibbled on her lip as she fought to prevent the tears that sprung to her eyes from spilling over. A shiver overtook her, strong enough that her spine grazed the wall. Sighing out a breath, she lifted her wand and prepared to cast a warming charm.

"I wouldn't if I were you." Malfoy's sharp voice stilled her movements.

At her puzzled look, he elaborated, "Magic draws the creatures' attention."

Hermione dropped her wand in defeat. She remembered well how the door had creaked and shuddered under the Inferi's attack. Gaining their attention unnecessarily would be beyond foolish. And she very much doubted that whatever wards Malfoy had placed upon the door would survive another assault.

"How long do you think they'll stay?" she asked, anxiously.

Lucius drew his leg up. Dropping his arm on his knee in a careless gesture, he answered, "That rather depends, wouldn't you agree?"

Hermione frowned. "On what?" she asked, somewhat distracted by the heavy looking robes he wore. They were sleeveless, and underneath he wore an intricately embroidered leather vest and pants that were blacker than night. He certainly seemed to be infinitely warmer than she was.

"Come now, Miss Granger, must I provide all the answers?" he drawled mockingly. His face looked as though it had been carved from stone. His arctic eyes watched her with bored indifference.

Hermione nibbled on her lip as she thought about it. Possible reasons were tumbling around her head until she felt dizzy. But then suddenly her eyes widened as they darted to the Death Eater. "You think someone's controlling them?"

A cruel smile curved his lips, "I do."

"But who would do that? And why?" she asked, bewildered that someone would want to kill both Harry and Voldemort. A powerful someone at that, if they could control such vast numbers of both the Inferi and Dementors.

"Ah, finally, questions worth pondering," Lucius said. He closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall back against the wall, baring his pale throat to her gaze once more. If she didn't look too closely, he could be mistaken for sleeping. But the lazy pose didn't fool Hermione for one second. He was practically vibrating with tension and even though his eyes were shut, she knew he was aware of her.

A minute passed in silence, but the atmosphere between them was so charged that it felt to her as though it could physically harm her. Hermione had been shivering the entire time, unable to warm herself up, no matter how small she tried to make herself. In a quick violent move, that had Malfoy glaring at her sourly, she stood up. His expression clearly conveyed that he thought her an uncouth commoner. She barely resisted the childish urge to stick her tongue out at him. But she did return his glare before she turned her back on him.

Wrapping her arms around her waist she studied the room. It was empty, but for a few pieces of broken furniture. She toed them aside and spotted a crumpled rag stuck beneath the leg of a chair. Bending down she pulled it free, shook it out and produced a cloud of dust.

"Must you?" Lucius murmured tiredly.

Hermione ignored him. Instead she walked over to Luna's ashes, knelt down and carefully placed the pillowcase-sized rag on the ground next to the grey dust. Not giving herself time to think, she scooped up the ashes and placed them in the centre of the rag, repeating that motion until all of them had been transferred. They were gritty and dry against her skin and ever so slightly warm. Once she'd finished, she drew up the corners and tied them into a tight knot before putting them on the ground next to the door.

For a long moment she just stared. Her mind bombarded with images of Luna's bloodied and damaged body, remembering the life fading from her blue eyes. Once again tears threatened to fall. It seemed all she could do was cry, even though she had no tears left. Shaking her head, she climbed to her feet, dried her eyes and wiped her hands on the side of her jeans. But no matter how much she rubbed, she couldn't erase the feeling of Luna's ashes coating her palms.

She forced her attention on the heavy, wooden door. It was split down the centre, held together only by the bands of rusty steel. As she crept closer, she could see where the splintered edges poked out. Carefully she pressed her ear to the cool wood. It felt waxy and smooth beneath her skin. Silence. Only her own thudding heartbeat and soft breaths could be heard. And behind her Malfoy's. She bit her lip as she eyed her shaking hand that was placed next to her face.

"Do you think we should risk opening the door and taking a look?" she whispered.

She heard the rustle of fabric and then footsteps. "I had considered it, only to discard it, of course. But now that you're awake it is an option I am willing to revisit."

Hermione scoffed and eyed the approaching Death Eater over her shoulder, "In other words you want me to be the one to stick my head out."

Malfoy smiled politely and inclined his head, "As you say."

She took a step back, arm brushing Malfoy's soft robes and palmed her wand in readiness. "And I assumed you were a gentleman. At least that's what Draco always bragged about."

Her words were met by silence. A thick, mind-numbing silence. When she glanced at Lucius, he seemed statue-like in his stillness, and his arctic eyes were trained on her without emotion. His pale hair framed his face and fell onto his broad shoulders like silk. The hand holding his cane was white-knuckled and so tense that she thought he might snap it in two. He'd never appeared as untouchable as he did at that moment. Almost inhuman in the way he held himself so carefully still. Like a coiled snake ready to strike. And she was his prey.

For the briefest of seconds she was confused by his sudden iciness, but then what she'd said registered and she grimaced. "I'm sure Draco's fine," she murmured, cursing herself for not having considered that he would be worried for his only son. But, honestly, he came across as so cold that it was hard for her to imagine that he had any feelings at all beneath that veneer of arrogance and cruelty he wore like a second skin. And she'd completely forgotten about Draco being at the battle. She'd been too preoccupied with destroying the Horcrux and fighting for her life.

Lucius sneered, "Save your reassurances, Miss Granger," he said with acidic politeness, "I neither seek them nor desire them, especially not from one such as you."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, "You mean a Mudblood."

His silence was all the answer she needed. Crossing her arms she regarded him with every ounce of disgust she could summon. "You can look out the door your sodding well self," she spat, pushing past him and returning to her place by the wall.

They scowled at each other from across the room. Hermione refused to let him intimidate her, even if that was precisely what he was doing. A second crawled by in which Lucius dropped his eyes, letting his gaze move down her body in slow appraisal, before languidly moving back upwards, lingering for a moment on the slim curve of her neck and then further up to trace the lines of her face and, finally, settling on her eyes. It wasn't a seductive look, not exactly. It was too intense, too calculated for that. It was more like the look of someone who'd stumbled upon an insect that they'd never seen before and was somewhat puzzled, surprised and slightly disgusted by the sight.

"Ah," he finally murmured. As if he'd just been given the answer to a question he'd long been pondering.

Hermione's eyes flashed with defiance but she kept her mouth stubbornly shut. Not allowing herself to spew at him the hundreds of words that were at the tip of her tongue. A cruel smile hovered on the edge of Lucius' lips. A secret, knowing smile that made her stomach roll.

"Well, then. I suppose one of us must gather our courage, Miss Granger, and seeing as you are obviously incapable, it will have to be me." His indifferent voice reached her ears, but his eyes were sharp as they regarded her.

Her back stiffened at his words. At the implication that she was a coward. Yet instead of marching to the door, as he was trying to goad her into doing, she merely smiled sweetly at him, "That would be brilliant. Thank you, Mr Malfoy."

The look of irritation that crossed his face was priceless to witness. She wished she'd had a camera. Not a muggle one, but a magical one that would forever catch that particular expression and play it again and again on an endless loop. She had the feeling that Lucius Malfoy very rarely failed to manipulate those around him. And she could tell it vexed him greatly that he could not make her dance to his tune.

Hermione's smile widened further when he tapped his cane on the ground and reluctantly made his way towards the door. His pale hand was perfectly steady as he withdrew his wand, murmured an incantation, and dropped the wards. The same pale hand reached for the handle.

"Wait!" Hermione whispered, stalling him. "Let me peek beneath the door first. Just to make sure there isn't something standing directly outside."

One pale brow rose quizzically, but he inclined his head in apparent agreement. Hermione walked forward, stopping when the door was close enough to touch. She shooed Lucius aside, earning her an annoyed look, and dropped to her knees. A cold draft brushed her hands as she sank down, making sure to avoid the rusty trickle of Luna's blood that had dried to a dull stain on the rough ground.

Hermione winced as the freezing stone touched her cheek. She had to blink several times as a draft blew into her face, drying her already irritated eyes. She didn't detect anything directly in front of of the door. Truthfully she could see almost nothing at all. Maybe some rubble and what looked like tattered fabric trapped beneath a wooden beam. But nothing that truly alarmed her. Satisfied that it would be safe to open the door, she climbed back to her feet.

She twisted to face Lucius, "I don't see anything."

Lucius nodded and stepped past her, again reaching for the handle and twisting it. The rusted metal made a loud creaking noise as he inched the door open. Hermione crept forward. His tense body filled the gap and even when she raised up to her tip toes, he was still too tall for her to see past. She watched the back of his head move as he looked from side to side before slowly withdrawing and shutting the door. His pale hand rose to point his wand at the door and then he murmured something indistinct to reset his wards.

"Well?" Hermione asked nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

Lucius turned to face her, expression empty. "There are Inferi hiding amongst the rubble and in the shadows," he said blandly, sounding almost as if what he was relaying was of no consequence to them whatsoever. "The air above Hogwarts is filled with more Dementors than I've ever seen gathered in one place."

Dread settled in her stomach, "Did you see anyone?"

Grey eyes scrutinised her coolly, "Bodies only."

Hermione blinked, fear pooling in her stomach, "But...what shall we do? We can't stay here!"

"Indeed." He wandered past her to regain his previous seated position. "Yet I fear, my dear girl, that for now we have little choice," he said nonchalantly.

As if being trapped in a small room with no escape, and monsters waiting outside to eat them, was just an everyday occurrence for him. A mere inconvenience to his busy schedule. Hermione huffed out a breath, wrapping her arms around her waist to ward off the cold that had chilled her to the bone the moment he'd told her about the bodies outside. She nibbled on her lip as she paced back and forth, from one wall to the other, over and over, trying to make her brain snap into gear so she could come up with a plan.

"Really, Miss Granger, must you be so irritating?" The words were almost a snarl. "Pacing will not help."

Hermione scowled at him. "It's helping me keep warm," she muttered.

"Then by all means come join me." A cruel smile accompanied his words. "I'm inclined to be generous if you ask nicely."

"Never happening," she spat, giving him a sour look that told him precisely what she thought about his offer.

He waved his hand indifferently. It was one of those effortless, fluid gestures that she envied. "The offer will not be reiterated," he warned.

Hermione didn't answer. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, her cold fingers clenched in the folds of her jumper. Of course she knew why it was so icy. It was due to the Dementors. Their very presence sucked all warmth from the air, lowering the temperature to that of a refrigerator. And it would remain that way until they left.

"How long do you think they'll stay?" she asked, flicking her gaze to the reclining Death Eater.

A lazy shrug. "Who can say?"

"I was hoping you would," Hermione said, stopping to look at him.

A coil of silvery hair snaked onto his chest. "And have me speak false words? Shame on you, Miss Granger."

"I'm not asking you to lie," she said as her eyes unwillingly dropped to the warm robes pooled around him. "I'm simply asking what you would do if you were in charge of them."

He hummed in apparent thought, eyes growing distant. A second passed. "I would keep them here until I was sure all of my enemies were dead."

Her heart sank at his answer. She'd suspected the same thing, but having it confirmed left her feeling shaky and sick. The Inferi and Dementors might be waiting outside for weeks. Maybe even longer than that.

"Do you think we could make it past the anti-apparation wards?" she asked.

Lucius smiled indulgently, "We? My dear, have I given you the impression that we are in this together?" He was the very epitome of a gentleman, stiff with manners and exuding an air of sophistication that she could never hope to match. "If I have, then let me disabuse you of that notion. You and I will never be a 'we'."

Hermione rolled her eyes and began to pace again. The temperature dropped even further and she had the awful feeling it was because the Dementors were drawing nearer. Her teeth began to chatter and her breath turned white, streaming behind her like a banner as she walked. When her skin began to prickle she knew they were close. A feeling of wrongness filled the room, rolling down from the ceiling and enveloping them. She shuddered, fighting the feelings of despair that threatened to overwhelm her.

Ice-cold air chilled her to the bones until they felt as though made of lead. Too heavy to move. Unable to bare it any longer, Hermione turned on her heel. Keeping her face carefully blank, she slowly made her way over to Lucius. Before he could say anything, she dropped to her knees, scooped up his robes and burrowed herself beneath the soft weight.

"I do not recall repeating that offer, Miss Granger," he drawled.

Hermione snuggled further under his robe."I don't bloody well care," she muttered.

And she didn't. Because she felt warm. Well, at least warmer than she had in hours. She heard Malfoy grumble something indistinct, before he shifted down to lay beside her, snaking an arm around her waist and covering them both with his robes. Hermione immediately tensed. Fear lodged beneath her ribs as her eyes widened to stare at the rough stone wall. She didn't dare to move an inch. Not even when he settled more firmly against her. His chest came to rest against her back and his hand moved to her stomach, fingers splaying widely as hot breath brushed the nape of her neck.

"You need not fear my advances, dear girl." His lips tickled her ear as he spoke with amusement. "I would not sully myself by engaging in an intimate act with one such as yourself."

The words, so softly whispered, were a relief. Even if Malfoy had intended for them to be an insult. But Hermione still couldn't relax. How could she when Lucius Malfoy was pressed against her so firmly? She could feel every stitch and seam of his clothing, the steady beat of his heart and his warmth pressing against the entire length of her body. It was unthinkable. Hermione Granger held in the curve of a Death Eater's body. And not just any Death Eater. Lucius Malfoy. Ron would be appalled. Harry would...Harry. Poor Harry would never know.

The sheer oddness of it did allow Hermione to forget about the stifling despair the Dementors were pumping into the air. She finally took a deep breath as the absurdity of the situation hit her. But she was warm and that was all she cared about at the moment. Sudden tiredness tugged at her. Hermione tried to fight it off, scared of what her dreams would show her. Scared of being in such a vulnerable position with Lucius. In the end she gave up. Her body relaxed and her eyes fluttered closed as she was dragged into sleep. Darkness. And then nothing.


	4. Chapter Four

Hermione awoke to soft even breaths brushing her throat. Warm, gentle puffs of air that tightened her skin and left a thousand goosebumps to rise in its wake. At some point during the night she must have turned over and now found herself wrapped around Lucius bloody Malfoy. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized how intimately they were pressed together. Not even a sliver of air separated them. Her chest touched his, hard against soft, legs tangled up in his own long limbs while her pale hands were tucked tightly into the deep folds of his robes, knuckles scraping against his leather vest. Strands of curly hair escaped from the thick plait she wore, tickling the underside of his jaw.

But the worst thing, the most horrifying thing, was that he was awake. She knew he was because he was touching her. Not in a lecherous, creepy kind of way. But with a slow languorous glide of his thumb against the skin of her waist. Just above the band of her jeans and beneath her jumper. A gentle, barely there, touch. Back and forth. Back and forth. And it was…nice. Comforting even. Her sleep addled brain didn't get any further in its musings before she was pulling away. Because she could never ever allow herself to find anything Lucius Malfoy did to her comforting. He was a monster. Albeit a monster who wore a pretty skin.

Scuttling across the floor like a demented crab, she increased the distance between them, halting only when her spine thudded against the wall. By the time she'd stopped, Malfoy had climbed to his feet. A peeved expression marring his face. Clearly he thought she was overreacting.

"How long have you been awake?" Hermione asked, folding her arms over her chest and trying to prevent accusation from colouring her tone.

Lucius regarded her with cool disdain, "My dear girl, I didn't sleep a wink."

"Oh." Her eyes travelled guiltily around the room, finally coming to rest on the broken door. It wouldn't hold. One more attack and those creatures would break through. Those slithering shadows exuding death and despair as they attacked. And Hermione didn't think they'd survive if they managed to break through the door. "Did you hear anything?"

Malfoy shook his head, pale hair framing his face, cold eyes cruel. "Is that the last of your questions? Or am I to be subjected to more of your insufferable prattle?" His voice washed over her like gentle rain. Almost as gently as his thumb had stroked her flesh.

Shaking that foolish thought aside, Hermione pressed her lips into a tight line. It annoyed her that he could make every dig he threw at her sound like the sweetest of praises. She turned her head away, refusing to look at him a moment longer; resentful that even now, trapped in a dilapidated room and forced to sleep on the hard ground, he still looked immaculate. His robes were blacker than night, not one speck of dust daring to mar the rich material, his hair was as sleek as if he'd spent endless hours combing through the silky strands. Or had his elf do it for him, which seemed more likely.

Hermione straightened up, eyes widening. Elves! Calling on the elves of Hogwarts would be useless, since McGonagall had ordered them to leave the school until it was safe to return. But house elves were a different matter altogether. She jumped to her feet, excitement making her stumble. She spun around to face Lucius, chewing frantically on her bottom lip and wondering if it could work. She prayed that it would.

"Call your elf," she said, hope making her voice bossier than she'd intended.

Lucius blinked. A flash of understanding replacing his usual blank features. "Twippy!"

A long second passed. Then two.

Nothing happened. Hermione sagged in despair, allowing her shoulders drop and her chin meet her chest. She had been so sure that the wards wouldn't keep the house elves out . But then she heard a pop. A faint snap of air and suddenly an elf appeared in the centre of the room. A tiny wizened thing with pearly grey skin and large emerald-coloured eyes. The only clothing she wore was a faded green silk cushion cover, with raggedly cut holes for her her arms and head. Perfect little feet shuffled in place as she awaited Lucius' orders.

Hermione dropped to her knees, hands folded primly in her lap, "Hello. My name is-"

"Would you be so kind as to stop talking to my elf, Miss Granger?" Lucius' irritated voice interrupted her.

"Well, you talk to her then," Hermione said, glaring at the Death Eater.

A sneer curled Lucius' mouth, "When you seal your lips and refrain from sticking your nose into that which does not concern you, I will gladly oblige." He waited a long moment. Stormy grey eyes staring at her with ill-concealed disgust, as he held himself straight with displeasure.

She rolled her eyes and switched her attention back to the elf. Twippy was wringing her hands and looking back and forth between the two of them with a panicked expression twisting her features. The poor thing looked like she was about to burst into tears. Those gorgeous emerald eyes were filling with moisture and threatened to spill over at any moment.

"It's okay. Nobody is angry with you," she said softly, ignoring Malfoy's huff of annoyance.

Lucius snapped his fingers. A sharp sound that made the elf flinch, almost jumping off the floor in fright. "Twippy, can you disapparate with me?"

"No, Master. The wards won't let Twippy take you." A tear trickled down her cheek, falling onto her chest to soak into the silk cushion cover, leaving a perfectly round, damp spot in its place.

Hermione felt her heart sink, nails digging into her palms as disappointment washed over her. But then she had another idea. "Ask her to go to find Draco."

Lucius stiffened. "Go. Find my son," he ordered in a sharp voice and with a look in his eyes that was positively glacial.

Twippy immediately disappeared, leaving behind a tension-filled silence which neither of them sought to break it. Lucius was content to stare blankly at the door as he waited for news of his son. Hermione was biting her nails, sick with nerves and worried about the Death Eater's reaction should Draco be dead. Seconds turned into minutes. The longest of Hermione's entire life. The tension increased until she thought she could reach out and bat it aside.

Then finally Twippy returned.

"Master's son is hiding in the library."

A flash of relief crossed Lucius' face. It was gone so quickly Hermione wasn't sure if it had been there at all.

"Is he alone?" Lucius asked, striding across the room to stand over the cowering elf, tapping the floor impatiently with the tip of his cane as he awaited a reply.

Twippy shook her head. "No, Master. Twippy saw three others."

"Who did you see?" he said sharply. His voice was like the edge of a knife.

"Twippy doesn’t know!" the elf wailed, lifting her hand to thump the side of her head. "Twippy should be punished. Twippy is a bad elf!"

Hermione rushed forward, reaching for the tiny creature's arms. "Stop!" The elf struggled in her grip, twisting and flapping until Hermione feared she'd harm herself. "Tell her to stop!" She implored Lucius over her shoulder.

"I will do no such thing." His brows knitted in anger, a frown marring his smooth forehead. "Now leave the elf alone. Can you not see that she does not wish to have your filthy hands touch her?"

A dagger of hurt pierced Hermione's heart. His cruel words biting into her as sharply as if he'd taken a blade and sliced her skin. She immediately dropped her hands, tears welling up as she backed away. The elf calmed down instantly, looking at Lucius with adoring eyes.

The Death Eater regarded the elf coolly. "Go back to the Manor. Bring me food, water, a table and a chair." He tapped the cane against the side of his thigh as he spoke. "Take the same provisions to Draco, minus the furniture of course. Find out who is with him, then report back to me immediately."

Twippy performed a clumsy curtsy before vanishing with a loud pop. She left behind silence.

Hermione remained motionless. Staring at the stone wall beside the door, she refused to speak unless he asked her a question. She was blinking rapidly to dispel her tears.

"Have I done the impossible and rendered you speechless, Miss Granger?" He kept his voice carefully polite, hiding the intended cruelness under dulcet tones.

Her eyes narrowed. Anger filled her chest at how she'd let his words hurt her, when they shouldn't have. He was a Death Eater, who'd done awful, unforgivable things to so many people. To her. And she shouldn't care what words he used to try and hurt her. But it was so easy to forget the monster lurking beneath that debonair mask he showed the world. And that was precisely what made him so dangerous. Determined that she wouldn't ever let it happen again, Hermione decided to use her own words to insult, unbalance and confuse him. To use her skills to get underneath his skin.

He was still watching her. Perhaps he was waiting for her to respond. Well, she would. She would play on the years of social etiquette and pure-blood manners that had been drilled into him from the moment he could speak.

A hidden smile played across her lips. "When she returns, I'd be terribly grateful if you could please ask her for a blanket?"

Lucius stiffened, his face becoming inscrutable and storm-grey eyes flashing bright silver. "But of course," he replied stiffly, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. His response dictated by the gentleman his parents had brought him up to be.

They watched each other across the dim room. Neither of them willing to be the first to drop their gaze. To concede. To withdraw from the challenge that had somehow been issued. It was Twippy's return that broke the odd stalemate that had fallen between them. And only because the elf was carrying the most outrageous chair Hermione had ever seen in her thin, doll-like arms. It was a huge wooden monstrosity, carved with writhing snakes and upholstered in decadent black velvet.

Hermione's jaw dropped as Twippy set it down and then promptly disappeared. Seeing Lucius' exasperated look, Hermione bit her lip to prevent the smile that threatened to break free. "I had no idea your taste would be quite that...ostentatious."

A slight flush tinged Malfoy's cheeks. Whether it was from embarrassment or anger she couldn't say. But it was the most human emotion Hermione had seen him display. He didn't answer her. He merely stepped towards the chair, flicked his robes aside and sat down. He should have look ridiculous. Sitting in his throne-like chair with an arrogance that tainted the air around him. But he didn't. Perhaps because he was so at ease in his own skin or because the privilege he wore like a suit of armour was so thick that all ridicule bounced off him and faded into dust.

Hermione was still studying the chair when Twippy returned. This time she was holding a folding table and a woven basket laden with food.

"Have you delivered the supplies to Draco?" Lucius asked as Twippy set up the table and began to unpack the basket.

"Twippy delivered," the elf confirmed, placing a selection of neat sandwiches on the table next to a plate of cheese, crackers and cut meat.

Lucius tipped his chin up, expression growing distant. "And he is well?"

"Yes, Master." A slice of chocolate cake joined the rest, followed by a large decanter of clear liquid and one cut glass crystal tumbler.

Thirst chose that precise moment to make an appearance, reminding Hermione that her throat was dry and scratchy. She stepped forward, licking her lips, and reached for the glass. Lucius gave her a sour look but didn't otherwise object as she filled the tumbler almost to the brink.

"And what of Draco's companions?" Lucius asked, idly swinging his cane back and forth.

"Twippy see Theodore Nott, Rabastan Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov." The elf stood beside the chair as she recited the names, carefully pronouncing each of them in turn.

"That's good. I'm pleased with you Twippy." Lucius flipped his long-fingered hand in a casual gesture of dismissal. "Come back in an hour, I'll give you further instructions then-"

"Don't forget the blanket! And a book to read on Dementors and Inferi if it's not too much trouble," Hermione said, earning her one of Lucius' glares that perfectly conveyed just how much he hated her.

"And a blanket and book," he finally added when it became obvious that she wasn't going to droop like the vapid female he thought she was.

Twippy vanished, leaving them alone to eat in peace. Which Hermione intended to do. Because now that food was available she realized how hungry she was. Reaching across, she plucked one of the tiny sandwiches off a plate. A cucumber and cream cheese that melted instantly on her tongue.

"By all means, help yourself." Malfoy's venomous voice had her lips twitching.

She gave him a saccharine sweet smile that was so obviously fake that it could have been made from plastic. "Thank you. It's so kind of you to offer."

The look of ill-concealed irritation flashing across his face was priceless. He grumbled something indistinct under his breath that she was certain was less than complimentary. For the next few moments they did nothing but eat. Hermione was more than content to ignore him as she gorged herself on the delicious food and drank her fill of the ice cold water. At one point she passed him the glass, sure he would refuse to take it, but after only the briefest of pauses his pale fingers closed around the water. She did notice that he turned the glass before he drank, making sure his lips didn't touch the same place her's had. It was such a Ron thing to do that she rolled her eyes, not missed by the Death Eater who slammed the glass down with more force than necessary.

Hermione sighed. Holding a hand to her stomach and patting she said, "That was lovely. Your elf cooks well."

A pale brow inched up Malfoy's forehead. "Indeed."

"Do you think she'll be able to find out what's happening out there?" she asked, tipping her head to the side.

"Perhaps." He looked pensively at the door. "She will be of use in any case."

Hermione nibbled her lip. "You could ask her to find other survivors. Let them know to use their own elves." She crossed the room to lean against the wall. "I've been thinking-"

"Merlin protect us," Lucius murmured.

Hermione scowled. "Was it not me that came up with the idea of calling your elf?"

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Then by all means, Miss Granger, do continue."

"As I said, I've been thinking about a spell I once read about. A severing spell-"

He gave an impatient huff. "Which would be of little use to us."

She stomped her foot in anger. "Will you stop interrupting me and start listening?" she said, glaring at him, hair crackling with furious energy. "The spell doesn't sever limbs, it severs magic."

"Ah." His fingertips caressed the silver-headed snake that made up the handle of his wand. The implication of what she'd said became clear. For once she was grateful that she was trapped inside the room with him; that she didn't have to explain. He'd already worked out that a spell that could sever magic could to break the bond between the creatures that waited outside, and whoever controlled them. "What was the name of the book? Where is it now?"

Hermione nibbled her lip. "It was in a reference book called 'Magical Spells That Can Be Twinned With Others'. It has a green cover. I found it in the Restricted Section. We could have Draco find it."

Lucius hummed, knowing as well as she did that there were hundreds upon hundreds of books stacked upon the dusty shelves. Elves were forbidden in that part of the library, which meant that Twippy wouldn't be able to help with the search.

"Do you think it could work?" she asked, shifting nervously from side to side.

"Perhaps." He was staring at the door again. A calculating look darkened his eyes to the point they resembled iron, hard and unyielding. "Have you finished?" he asked, indicating the food-leaden table.

Hermione nodded.

"Twippy!" Lucius called out impatiently, waiting for the elf to appear.

A pop. And then the elf stepped out of the air, carrying a leather-covered book and a thick, green blanket. Hermione took them from her, careful not to let their fingers touch.

"Clear this away and then go to Draco, tell him to search for a book in the Restricted Section of the library. A green book with the title, 'Magical Spells That Can Be Twinned With Others.'" He gave Twippy a stern look. "Tell him to call you the moment he finds it, and then bring the book immediately to me."

"Yes, Master. Twippy will do as asked." The elf snapped her fingers, making the table and food vanish, followed quickly by the elf herself.

"Well then..." Hermione began, voice fading when she saw the faraway in Lucius' eyes. She sighed, gaze searching the room for a brighter spot to read. There wasn't one, but below the window a sliver of weak sunlight illuminated the gloom. Seeing no better place, Hermione made her way towards it, placing the book on the ground so she could gather the soft blanket around herself. Sitting down, she undid her plait, fingers combing through her hair before wrestling it into a messy bun.

"It must be so tiresome," Lucius mocked, "having such atrocious hair."

Hermione slowly let her gaze trace over the contours of his face, then up to linger on the pale sheen of silk that topped his own head. She deliberately wrinkled her nose. "Well, you'd know I suppose."

And...ah! The blow to his vanity was worth the hate-filled look he gave her. Although she did shiver in fear at the retribution she could see hovering in his silver gaze. But it was the speculation that worried her the most. She wasn't sure she liked knowing Lucius Malfoy was thinking about her so hard.


	5. Chapter Five

The Mudblood was still reading the book. Although Lucius had no idea why she even bothered, she wouldn't suddenly stumble across a hidden piece of knowledge. No matter how hard she searched. But it did keep her from annoying him with her incessant prattle. For the time being at least. Nonetheless, the intense way in which she studied the yellowed pages was rapidly starting to grate on his nerves. Not once had the girl looked up. Despite him gifting her with the most hate-filled glare he could muster. The one he usually reserved for those he considered beneath him and Hermione Granger could most certainly count herself amongst that vast group.

Plucking non-existent lint off his robes, Lucius let out a huff of annoyance. He was bored almost to the point of doing the unthinkable. Talking to the Mudblood. He had to admit though, if only to himself, that she hadn't been entirely useless. Clearly, the countless stories Draco had told him over the years had some merit after all. Even though he was certain his son had bent the truth on occasion, omitting and embellishing certain parts, depending on his feelings towards the Golden Trio at that particular point in time. But still, to have to lower himself to converse with someone like her would be utterly degrading.

His lips thinned as she turned another damnable page. The slick sound of it filling the musty air set his teeth on edge. Of course, his sudden foul temper could be put down to the insult she'd aimed at his hair. His hair! As if that knotted rats nest that sprouted from her head wasn't the most atrocious thing he'd ever seen. And yet she had the nerve, after facing that monstrosity every morning, to insult his immaculate locks. Lucius narrowed his eyes as he contemplated ways to make her pay for that appalling lapse in judgment. Torture was always an option. But the girl had proven to be surprisingly resilient when such methods were used against her. Bellatrix could certainly verify that fact. Provided she could be pulled out of insanity long enough to answer. Regardless, it was still a viable option to consider.

Another claustrophobic hour passed. The walls seemed to shrink and suffocate him with every passing second. The Mudblood was no longer reading the book. Now, it lay forgotten beside her on the ground next to her thigh. The trickle of light she'd been using to read by had long since disappeared. Now she just sat there, staring idly into space with a vacant expression. Lucius had spent his time much more productively. He'd been agonising over a way to escape from this hell hole. In the end only one plan proved possible. Unfortunately it involved keeping the Mudblood by his side. It was simple enough really. He would have Twippy bring him a broom so they could get out of here and evade the Inferi by flying above them. Then the Dementors would be the only obstacle left. But he would be unable to defend himself against those foul creatures. His cool gaze settled on the Granger girl. But she could; hence her involvement in his plan. Although seeing staring into the dark, he wasn't so sure that she'd be capable of such magic. Lucius eyed her knitted brow with distaste. The girl seemed to be forever frowning at something. He wondered if she was pondering the same dilemma he was.

"How long does it take to find a bloody book?" she muttered.

Ah. She was thinking the same thing.

"The book is hidden amongst countless others, Miss Granger. It will take as long as it takes," he replied, providing the answer that he knew would irritate her the most.

Hermione scoffed, "But there are four of them searching!"

"And they will find it."

"Maybe you should call Twippy. Ask her to go see what's going on," she said. Her large chocolate eyes were fixed on him.

Lucius stiffened. "More orders? Do you think you're my master now, Miss Granger?"

"It wasn't an order," Hermione said, "it was a suggestion."

He sneered, turning his chilling gaze away from her and focused on the mangled door instead. He'd been seconds away from calling Twippy himself before she'd spoken. But now that was quite impossible. For if he did, the wretched girl would think it was because she'd asked it of him. Another long torturous hour passed. The silence between them was so thick that it was a wonder they didn't choke. They kept throwing resentful looks at each other.

Finally the Mudblood snapped. Jumping to her feet, she came towards him. "Just call the bloody elf already!" she demanded, stamping her foot like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

Raising one brow, Lucius regarded her coolly. "I will do no such thing."

"Why not?" she asked, brown eyes flashing golden. Her pale face was scrunched up in anger and her hideous hair was crackling with magic.

"Have a care my dear." A sliver of satisfaction warmed his heart as he saw her taking a step away from him when he slowly rose from his chair. "Speak to me in that tone again, and I will make sure that you regret it dearly."

Hermione crossed her arms, "I'm not afraid of you."

"And yet you back away when I approach." He took a large step closer, forcing her to back up, and thus proving his point.

He almost smiled when he saw the look of irritation flash across her face before she planted her feet on the ground and refused to back up any further. Not even when he got close enough to count each freckle dusting the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks. She kept her stare fixed on his chest, which bothered him for reasons he couldn't quite name. Using his cane, Lucius began to slowly traced up the side of her thigh, into the curve of her waist and up along her ribcage. He paused there, letting the head of the snake press into the swell of her breast. The Mudblood was trembling, her hands clenched into fists at her side. Yet she still didn't move. Not even when he drew the cane up and across her nipple and further to let it rest beneath her chin. He knew from experience how cold the silver felt against her skin. Hard. Unyielding. But the Mudblood didn't even flinch.

Lucius narrowed his eyes, pushing the cane into her flesh until her head was tipped back, making her bare her throat in submission. He forced her to meet his gaze. Defiantly, she kept eye contact with him. Her deep brown eyes almost dared him to do something.

"What now?" he murmured, letting his eyes drop to her lips. A deliberate look he knew she would misinterpret.

The Granger girl smiled. "Now, you call Twippy."

His temper flared as he returned his gaze back to hers. "Orders again, Miss Granger? How very tiresome."

"Well, you'd know," she replied.

"And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?" he bit out.

Hermione shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "Just that at your age, you'd know these things."

"My age?" Lucius asked, his voice deadly quiet and sharp enough to slice skin.

"Well..." The witch allowed her eyes to sweep over his features. "You must be in your late fifties at least, right?"

He blinked, swallowing hard in the face of such insolence. "Do you have a death wish?" he hissed,angrily.

The Mudblood shook her head with difficulty due to the snake-head biting into her flesh.

"Then I suggest you cease in your attempts to provoke me." He snatched the cane away. The sharp silver left a faint pink line.

She was shaking. Badly. Lucius could see the fine tremors that shook her body in ever increasing waves. Yet, the Mudblood neither backed away from him, nor dropped her gaze. He studied her, seeing the strength others doubtlessly overlooked. She was like steel forged in fire. Her eyes were brimming with a variety of explosive emotions. Challenge. Dislike. More than a hint of defiance. Fear, as well. It darkened her eyes to moccha. However, it didn't rule her. That fear. She didn't let it.

Lucius was still trying to solve the puzzle that was Hermione Granger, when they heard a wet snuffling noise come from the door. They both turned quickly towards the sound, drawing their wands in readiness. The room was silent. Each of them held their breath as they strained their eyes to see through the dim light. There was a dull thud as something hit the door. The wood and metal creaked alarmingly, the central split widening the barest amount. Another thud. This one louder than the first. For a long, seemingly endless moment, neither of them moved or dared to breathe at all.

The seconds stretched into minutes. Lucius listened intently as whatever was outside moved away. At least for now. From the corner of his eye he saw the Mudblood turn to face him.

"Twippy!" he hissed before she could open her mouth to, yet again, demand he call the elf.

His elf popped into existence. "Master?"

"Go see if Draco has located the book," he said. "Make it quick!"

The tiny elf disappeared with a sound like lips smacking together.

"That door isn't going to hold much longer," The Granger girl said.

Lucius bristled, "My dear girl, do you make it a habit to state the obvious, or is that particular talent reserved only for me?"

Hermione scowled, but the fierceness of that expression was somewhat dulled when she glanced warily at the door. "Should we risk a stronger ward?"

"The magic used in such a spell would draw the creatures' attention like moths to a flame." He eyed the door, lips pursed in thought.

"Well, let's at least put your throne in front of it," she said.

Lucius swung to face her. "What did you just say?"

The Mudblood pointed at his chair. "We should barricade the door with it." Her words were spoken without inflection, but Lucius could see the humour lurking inside her eyes. She was laughing at him. Mocking him in ways that nobody else had ever dared to.

White-hot fury shot through him. How dare she laugh at him! She was worth less than the dirt beneath his boots. His fingers clenched, preparing to strike her across the face with his cane. If only Twippy hadn't chosen that exact moment to return.

"Draco cannot find the book, Master." The elf covered her ears with quivering hands. Knowing such words would normally make him incredibly angry.

She was right. They did. He hissed in displeasure, biting back the angry words he wished to snap out.

"How can he not have found it?" Hermione whispered furiously. "There are four of them, and they've been searching for hours!"

Lucius wholeheartedly agreed, but refused to side with the Mudblood against his son. "Then perhaps the book isn't there."

"Of course it's there!" Hermione insisted.

"And yet they haven't found it," Lucius replied, sneering at the frustrated witch.

"Because those bloody fools aren't looking properly!"

The Death Eater eyed her coldly. "One more word Miss Granger and I will tear out your tongue with my bare hands."

"You-"

Whatever the witch had been about to say was cut off by a high-pitched screech from directly outside the door. The temperature dropped to below freezing. Their breaths left them in broad white plumes. Despair made them momentarily freeze on the spot. Lucius felt his every muscle stiffen as the door began to groan. First, the wood splintered with a dry snap. Then the metal squeaked deafeningly as it gave way as easily as wet paper.

Lucius snapped out his hand to grab Hermione's arm. The witch was white as chalk, staring blankly at the door. He tightened his grip, squeezing her flesh. "Twippy, bring me a broom. Now!" he snapped. The elf disappeared before he'd even finished speaking.

"Heed my advice if you want to live." Lucius shook Hermione's arm, her panicked brown eyes flickered towards him. "Can you perform Expecto Patronum whilst flying?"

"I … What?"

"Flying, Miss Granger." Lucius tightened his grip on his wand, pointing the tip at the rapidly disintegrating door.

The witch seemed to gather herself as Twippy reappeared, Firebolt in hand. "I don't know."

"Then we shall soon find out," he replied, taking the broom and shooing the elf away. "Tell Draco I'll be with him in a minute."

"We're going to the library?" Hermione asked.

Lucius shoved her behind him. "But of course," he muttered, arranging himself on the broom while keeping an eye on the door. There was a gap. At least two inches wide. He saw a thin, spidery hand slide through. Skeletal fingers began to tear at the splinters of wood, leaving behind slimy trails of putrid blood.

"I would advise you to climb on board now, my dear, lest you be left behind," he said. One swift kick and the broom was floating.

Behind him, the Mudblood stepped closer. She climbed onto the Firebolt. "I want your word that you won't let the others hurt me."

"Miss Granger-"

"Your word! Or I won't cast," she said.

Lucius huffed. "You have it."

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, the witch put an arm around his waist. Lucius took a deep breath. Raising his wand he aimed Incendio at the door, producing a blast of heat. His eyes narrowed as he tried to see through the too-bright flames. The wood of the door turned black as he watched, blistering, before crumbling to ash. A high-pitched squeal filled the air with terror.

Lucius bent forward over the broom, taking Hermione with him. He could feel her trembling against his back, her fingers digging into his waist. He pushed down, forcing the broom into motion. They shot through the door. Their surroundings became blurry as they sped towards the library. Below them, the Inferi were a seething mass. Outstretched arms and wide open mouths wheezed their displeasure to the sky. The Dementors pursued them, blazing like black comets through the grey sky. The air around them was icy, freezing their muscles and slowing their escape. Despair punched a hole through his heart and threatened to pull him into a deep well of misery.

He faked right and dodged to the left at the last moment, missing the dropping Dementors by inches. Behind him, Hermione spoke a few words that were immediately lost on the wind. A silver-white mist erupted around them, circling the broom several times. A bright, but insubstantial, Patronus. It was all the Mudblood could manage to produce. Little wonder it wasn't fully corporeal after the last couple of days they'd endured. But even as weak as it was, it kept them safe.

Lucius pressed forward, barely keeping ahead of the chasing Dementors. His eyes narrowed as they approached the library. One half was a jumbled mess. Scattered books, turned over shelves and broken tables littered the area. Lucius circled the library searching for a way in. The windows were all intact and the door was blocked. He cursed silently as he noticed that Hermione's Patronus was slowly starting to fade.

"We'll have to blast our way in," the Mudblood hissed into his ear.

He agreed. There was no other option. He guided the broom down, pointing them towards the floor, but kept them just above the reaching arms of the Inferi.

"Be ready!" he yelled, increasing their speed.

Behind him Hermione whimpered. Probably because they were headed for a huge pile of rubble. The Patronus faded as they drew nearer. Lucius held his breath. Taking one hand off the broom, he raised his wand. At the last possible second he pulled hard right. The momentum of the turn almost caused them to topple to the ground. He kicked off the Firebolt and cast a blasting hex in one smooth motion. The rubble exploded, throwing rocks and dust towards them. Lucius spun around, hastily encasing them in a bubble charm. The Mudblood was sprawled on the floor, Incendio spewing from the tip of her wand as she fought off the Inferi. She had a scrape on her cheek and several scratches on the palms of her hand, but her eyes blazed like the sun.

Reaching down, he grabbed the back of her jumper in one hand and his broom in the other, yanking her into the yawning blackness of the hole he'd created. She skidded across the floor, but at least had the brains to keep fighting off the approaching Inferi. The moment they passed through the hole, he cast Reparo, pulling the rocks and rubble back into the gap and sealing them inside.

Instant darkness swallowed them. The Mudbloods gasping breaths were the only sound he could hear.

"Lumos!" he said.

Cool yellow light sputtered to life. Hermione was standing beside him. He glanced at her, freezing when he realized she wasn't the one gasping. That sound was coming from the Inferi that was pinned beneath a rock. Lucius sighed in irritation.

"How terribly inconvenient," he said.

The Mudblood shrugged. "Maybe not." At his inquiring look she elaborated. "We can practice the spell on it."

Lucius hummed in agreement. "Yes. Well ,my dear, we need to find that spell first." he said dismissively, turning away as he went to search for his son.


	6. Chapter Six

They found Draco and the other Death Eaters standing at the very back of the library amongst broken shelves and scattered books. Beyond them the Restricted Section loomed ominously. As though darkness exuded from it. It seemed to absorb the shadows and fill the air with tension. It was a place Hermione would usually have taken comfort from. She'd spent hours lost between the towering stacks and parchment scented air. Her ink-stained fingers tingling when they'd caressed the leather spines with a feather-light touch. Yet, at that moment, she hardly recognised the place that had been her sanctuary for so long. A place she sought refuge in when fear threatened to overwhelm her. Now all she saw was a monstrous cave with broken teeth, waiting to swallow her up in one swift bite.

It didn't help that several sets of hostile eyes had settled on her the second she'd stepped into view. One in particular made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end and her heart thud painfully inside her chest. Antonin Dolohov. The moment their eyes met, she felt a thick lump of fear race up her throat and get stuck halfway. It trapped the air in her lungs and made breathing difficult.

As she watched, a smirk curled up the corners of his thin lips while his empty gaze slowly lowered to the centre of her chest. The scar he'd inflicted gave a dull throb before dissolving into an icy ache. Next to him stood, Rabastan Lestrange. His dark hair hung in greasy strands over his forehead, emphasizing his bloodshot eyes. They both looked dishevelled and there were several patches of dried blood on their robes. She swallowed, quickly dropped her gaze and moved behind Lucius. Fear suffused her entire body. That smirk had held the promise of pain. Hermione didn't doubt for one second that the Death Eaters would tear her apart at the first chance they got.

"Father," said Draco, stepping forward. His eyes landed on Hermione's shoulder that was the only part of her not hidden behind his father. He wrinkled his perfect nose in distaste.

Lucius inclined his head. "Son. I'm glad to see that you're unharmed, although clearly incapable of finding a book."

Hermione winced on Draco's behalf. No wonder he was such a prat if this was Lucius Malfoy's idea of fatherly love. She watched as he seemed to wilt under his father's frosty stare. He grew smaller until his shoulders were almost hunched around his ears. It lasted until Lucius switched his gaze to Theo.

"You! Nott, isn't it?" He stepped forward and in turn exposed Hermione to everyone's unfriendly stare. He pulled up his cane and pointed the silver-tipped end at Theo. "Take the girl and find that blasted book."

For a moment Hermione stood perfectly still, pinned by their cruel gaze. Every part of her body trembled with the urge to run. She pulled in a deep breath, hoping to draw courage from the dusty air. It didn't work. So instead she squeezed her wand until she thought it would pierce through her sweaty palm and come out the other side. She lifted her chin and stepped forward, quickly striding past the Death Eaters and into the shadowed familiarity of the Restricted Section. Someone hissed as she passed, but she didn't dare look up to see whether it was Dolohov or Lestrange.

The moment she reached the dark confines, she slowed down and pressed a hand to her throbbing heart. She could feel it beating against her breastbone with manic force. At the scrape of a footstep behind her, she felt it skip a beat, before resuming its frantic rhythm once again. Hermione spun around and raised her wand. She had several hexes on the tip of her tongue, but quickly silenced them when she saw that it was only Theo.

"Oh!" She dropped her wand a few inches, "You startled me."

Theo's face was completely blank as he regarded her. "Where's the book, Granger?"

"It's near the back."

"We've already looked there," he stated in a flat voice.

Hermione frowned. "Well, that's where I left it." She made to move towards the back of the room but stopped and turned to face Theo.

"Would you mind going first?"

Theo's brow arched, but he didn't comment as he walked past her and cast a Lumos. Out of all the Slytherins in her year, Theo had always puzzled Hermione the most. He'd never been cruel or nasty to her; in fact she couldn't ever recall him saying anything derogatory to her, at all. Of course, she didn't know if he did so from the confines of the Slytherin common room. But she really didn't think that he had.

She waited until he was a few steps in front of her before she followed him. The air was thick with dust. It swirled and drifted onto the forbidden tomes like snowflakes to cover them as softly as breath. The only light came from their wands, which shifted and danced with the shadows.

"Turn left," she called out softly to Theo.

He nodded his head and did as instructed.

The moment he was out of sight, her hand darted to the right to pluck a small book from the shelf. The spine was green but so covered in ornate gilding that it looked gold. She'd forgotten that fact when she'd told Lucius about the book, and had never been more grateful for forgetting anything in her life. There was no way she was just going to hand it over to them. The promise she'd extracted from Lucius would disintegrate the moment she did so. She continued to walk as she flicked through the pages and then did something that made her wince. She tore the page that contained the ritual out of the book and then after a second's hesitation tore out a second. Lifting her wand, she muttered a spell that made the writing on both pages disappear.

The first she folded and tucked into the side of her shoe, the second went into her pocket. Just as she turned the corner, she dropped her arm and hid the book behind her thigh. Theo was near the end of the stack.

"Right there. It should be on the third shelf to your left."

Theo halted and began to search the books in front of him. Hermione bit her lip as she stepped up beside him. She was careful to keep a small gap between them.

"I don't see it, Granger."

"Maybe it was on the fourth shelf," she murmured.

From the corner of her eye she saw Theo give her a suspicious look as she pretended to search for the book. She twisted slightly away from him and crouched down. Her heart was beating at twice its normal rate as she slowly lifted the hand that held the book.

"Here it is!" She exclaimed and held the book aloft.

"How fortunate you were here to find it." His sarcasm could have filled a bucket.

Hermione offered him a fake smile. "Isn't it?"

The skin between his eyebrows puckered. "Granger, whatever game you're playing, you need to understand that the people in the other room play by different rules. They'll kill you the first chance they get and you'd be lucky if they granted you a swift death."

"I know."

And she did. Lucius Malfoy wasn't going to keep his word. Not to her. He'd find a way around it, she'd bet he was discussing it with the other Death Eaters right this second. She could almost hear his persuasive whisper as he coaxed the others into hurting her.

Theo made to return to his fellow Slytherins.

"Wait!" She put her hand on the sleeve of his robe. "Have you seen Ron or the others?"

He shook his head and the small movement made a lock of dark hair fall over his forehead. "I was more concerned with getting myself to safety."

Hermione nodded. "Of course. Do you-"

"I'm not making deals with you, Granger," he interrupted, pulling his sleeve out of her grip and walking away.

Her lips tightened in annoyance as he disappeared into the shadows. She hadn't wanted to make a deal. She had merely wanted him to call his elf and ask the creature to seek out her remaining friends. Now she would have to convince Malfoy to use Twippy instead. Her hands shook as she walked back to the entrance of the Restricted Section. The Death Eaters were crowded together when she returned. Their black robes seemed to merge into one as they murmured to one another. They could plan and scheme all they wanted, she had several of her own that she was sure would out do theirs.

The moment she stepped into view they ceased talking and turned to look at her. Lucius was displaying a sly smirk that made her instantly tense up.

"The book?" he demanded, holding out a pale hand.

Hermione forced her lips into a smile. "I think I'll keep hold of it if you don't mind."

"You will do no such thing." His eyes narrowed in contempt. "Now either give me the book, or I will have Antonin take it."

Her eyes darted to Dolohov. He was staring at her and slowly tracing his bottom lip with his tongue. When their eyes met he mouthed the words, "I'm going to fuck you so hard."

She flinched and quickly returned her gaze to Lucius. "You promised you wouldn't let anyone hurt me."

He gave her a look of scorn. "I lied. Now give me the book."

Hermione stepped back.

Draco huffed and strode towards her. "Just give him the bloody book, Granger." He reached around and snatched it from her hand.

She scowled at the back of his head as he handed it to his father. Lucius took one look at the heavy gilding and cocked his brow.

"Green, Miss Granger?"

Hermione folded her arms defensively. "Yes."

"I don't know what they teach you in that Muggle world of yours, my dear, but this is gold." The others chuckled at the condescension that laced his tone.

"It's green underneath," Hermione muttered as she inched further away from them.

Lucius spotted the movement and narrowed his eyes. "Going somewhere?"

He made a careless gesture to Dolohov and Lestrange, who then grinned and stalked towards her. Hermione froze as they came to stand beside her. Dolohov's scalding breath brushed the top of her head and his soft robes touched her side. The threat was unmistakable and she adjusted the grip on her wand in response. She bit her lip when Lucius opened the book and began flicking through the pages.

The only sound she could hear were the Death Eaters' rasping breaths, her own thudding heart, and the slick flutter as the book's pages were turned. Lucius paused and Hermione readied herself for what was about to come. Her eyes were fixed on Malfoy's pale fingers as he ran the tips along the torn edge, before removing them and closing the book with a loud snap.

She felt the tension increase as she slowly let her gaze run up his chest and over the harsh planes of his face. Steel-grey eyes met soft brown.

"I am in no mood for games." His voice could have frozen smoke. "Where are the missing pages?"

Hermione lifted her chin defiantly. "When you make a vow," her eyes darted to a sneering Draco, "on your magic, that no harm will come to me. Then I will give you the pages."

"For fuck's sake, Granger," the youngest Malfoy hissed. "Just-"

"Language, Draco," Lucius drawled in that succulent voice, "the use of such profanity is beneath you."

His disdainful stare switched back to Hermione. "Search her."

She trembled, but held Lucius' gaze as Dolohov and Lestrange inched nearer. They brought with them the scent of sweat, blood, and ozone. She kept her wand down, knowing that she had little chance against the five of them should she attempt to fight. Her body shook as Rabastan circled round to stand at the back of her. She felt crowded, pinned between them. When Dolohov's rough hand began to run down her body, she flinched, but maintained eye contact with Lucius. Dolohov deliberately smoothed his hand over her curves, digging his fingers into her skin and making her wince.

A malicious smile formed on the elder Malfoy's lips at her discomfort. But then her view of him was blocked when Dolohov stood in front of her. His hand reached up to touch the fluttering pulse at her throat before sliding down to trace the scar that ran from the centre of her breastbone and down to her hip. She kept her eyes fixed on his chest and tried not to gag as his rotten breath fanned her cheek.

"I remember how loud you screamed when I gave you this." His hand dipped under her jumper to claw at the scar.

Hermione made to lift up her wand but Lestrange grabbed her wrist and held it by her side. The other he looped around her waist. He gave a sharp yank, pulling her against his chest. Dolohov grinned, displaying yellowed teeth and pressed into her. She could feel his erection prodding her hip.

"The page is in my pocket!" she hissed.

Dolohov grunted but made no move to reach for it, instead he let his hand creep up the inside of her thigh. Hermione kicked at his shin before thrashing around like a demented fish. The back of her head connected with Lestrange's nose and a loud crunch filled the air. He cursed, the hand holding her wrist squeezing until she thought it would break. In front of her Dolohov stepped away before swiftly punching her in the stomach.

The breath exploded out of her as she bent over in an effort to breathe. Her stomach felt like it was on fire and the world blurred as tears filled her eyes. She was dimly aware of someone reaching into her pocket and withdrawing the page. And then she was falling, hitting the ground with a hard thud. She immediately curled onto her side, her hair a tangled pillow beneath her head.

She could see Draco averting his gaze and Theo frowning as he watched her fight for breath. The other three were behind her and she knew she'd only have a moment before they saw the blank page and returned to her. Slowly, she raised her wand and got ready to point it at Draco.

She heard an irritated hiss, followed by the scrape of a boot.

"My temper wears thin, Miss Granger." Lucius' voice was filled with ice and fury. "You have two seconds to produce the second page and remove the spell, before I allow Antonin and Rabastan to have their way with you."

Two seconds.

It would be enough.

One. She pointed the wand at Draco.

Two. She murmured a spell.

A bright beam of orange light erupted from her wand. It shot across the room to hit Draco in the middle of his chest. He staggered back but kept his footing. For the briefest of seconds the world stood unmoving. Every single one of them held their breath in suspended disbelief. Then all hell broke loose. Draco sagged to his knees, clutching his stomach. Theo ran to his side, crouching down to peer into his face. Dolohov and Lestrange had their wands drawn and pointed at Hermione.

Lucius was beside her, his elegant fingers tangled in her hair as he hauled her to her feet.

"What did you do!?" His wand was digging into the soft part of her throat as he snarled the words in her face.

Hermione swallowed, standing on her tip-toes to ease the pain in her scalp. "It's a curse. You have one minute to do as I ask or Draco will die."

Lucius' eyes narrowed as he tried to gauge the truth of her words. He pulled her head brutally to the side, the action making the wand bite into her skin. "Listen to me very carefully, you filthy-"

His words were cut off by a pained whimper from Draco. Lucius swung his head to the side, the pale strands of his hair whipping Hermione's cheek.

"I'll lift the curse if you make the vow that no harm will come to me." Her eyes darted to the side to see Draco hunched over and gagging as he clutched at his stomach. "He'll start to choke on his own blood soon," she whispered.

Lucius tightened his grip, bringing instant tears to her eyes. "You will remove the curse or I shall make you suffer in ways you cannot even begin to imagine."

"The vow," Hermione ground out through clenched teeth.

Steel-grey eyes cut into her. "Then you leave me no choice but to use the Imperio."

He removed the wand from her neck and lifted it to her face.

"I'll be able to withstand it long enough for Draco to die," she said, meeting his furious stare.

A wet cough bubbled from Draco's mouth. The scent of copper filled the air and Hermione knew that if she were to look, blood would be trickling from the younger Malfoy's lips. Lucius' jaw clenched as Draco groaned.

"Well?" she asked.

He tore his hand from her hair, pulling out several strands. His face was harsh as he reached down to snatch at her wrist. "Lestrange, would you be so kind as to act as bonder?"

The Death Eater rushed towards them and placed his wand above their linked arms.

"I, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, vow on my magic to protect, Hermione Jean Granger, from any who would do her harm." His voice was glacial as he spat the words.

A tendril of fiery light floated from Rabastan's wand to circle their clasped hands. It was followed by another. Hermione watched in fascination as the string of fire twirled around their wrists. Lucius' fingers clenched and she realized she hadn't accepted his vow.

"I accept your vow," she whispered.

At her words a third rope of fire joined the other two. They spun in one endless loop before sinking into their skin, with the sensation of sticky cobwebs. As soon as it was done, Lucius snatched his hand away and strode over to his son.

"Remove the curse." His voice was sharp enough to slice skin.

Hermione glanced at Draco. He was on his hands and knees, retching. There was a small pool of blood beneath him.

"It's not a curse. It's a hex." Her eyes rose to the silent Death Eaters. "It fills the stomach with blood and gives you horrendous stomach cramps. Draco will be fine in a few minutes time."

They merely blinked at her. Stunned and speechless. But she thought she saw a sliver of respect in Theo's eyes.

Hermione allowed a bitter smile to curve her lips. "You're not the only one who knows how to lie, Mr Malfoy."

Lucius' face twitched. The only indication of how furiously angry he was. Draco choose that moment to finally throw up the contents of his stomach. Sticky blood and pus landed on his father's boots with a wet splash.

"Fuck!" Lucius hissed.

"Tut, tut, I would have assumed such profanity was beneath you," Hermione said.

Incandescent grey eyes flew up to hers. There was the promise of pain and death displayed within. She coolly met his stare, feeling an odd kind of victory. He would never again underestimate her. And that was good. Because if they wanted to have any chance of survival, then they would need to work together.


	7. Chapter Seven

Hermione swallowed as the silence continued. Every eye was fixed on her with varying degrees of dislike. Ice crept down her spine as she watched Lucius remove the blood from his shoes. The effortless grace with which he executed the nonverbal spell filled her with envy. At the same time, she couldn’t suppress a shudder when his steely gaze seemed to tear through her.

“Well,” she began, shifting nervously away from them. When she realised what she’d done, she jutted out her chin and pushed her feet into the ground to stop them from moving. “I should read the page then,” she finally said, breaking the mounting tension.

Malfoy sneered. “I think not. I will read it.” He held the crumpled paper out to her. “The counter-charm, Miss Granger?”

Hermione lifted her eyebrows and met his contemptuous glare. “That’s not the page containing the spell.” She bent down to pluck the second sheet of paper from her shoe. It felt dry and brittle as she carefully unfolded it and made her way to the dust-covered table. “This is the spell.”

“Then what, my dear, is this?” Lucius enquired in a low tone.

“That’s a decoy page.” She turned away from his furious stare. “But you can keep it if you want.”

A deadly silence fell behind her and Hermione cursed her own stupidity. Now was not the time to play with Lucius Malfoy, no matter how satisfying it was to put him in his place. And, by Merlin, it was satisfying. Thrilling even. But dangerous; very, very dangerous. Sighing, she placed the spell on the table and muttered the counter-charm, waiting until the untidy words started to appear. She felt movement beside her and looked up to see Theo standing next to her. He was squinting as he tried to read the page in the dim light. Hermione spent a few seconds studying him, wondering if she looked as tired as he did. Was her face as pale and drawn? Was she as covered in dust and grit? She knew she must be, every person she’d seen, apart from Lucius Malfoy, looked like they’d been tossed down a hill and sprinkled with dirt. But surely her eyes didn’t look as haunted. She didn’t think she could bare it if she looked in a mirror and saw those dull eyes staring back at her.

She pulled her gaze from Theo and onto the others. The three older Death Eaters were huddled together and whispering. Draco was on his feet and glaring at her. As she watched, a droplet of blood rolled down his chin, hovering on the edge of his jaw for an endless second, before dripping onto his chest like a drop of rain. It was oddly hypnotic.

A muttered curse drew Hermione’s attention back to Theo. He was frowning at the page, his finger tapping absently on the table as his eyes scanned the text. Narrowing her eyes, she bent closer and finally read the spell. The instructions looked clear enough, simple even, but a look at the list of the ingredients made her heart sink. The fact that a potion was needed at all was unusual, but from what she could make out it worked in a similar way to Felix Felicis; but instead of granting the caster luck, it granted the power to sever a spell. The trouble was that Shadow essence was needed. A notoriously unstable substance that took months to make.

Indeed, it was considered so dangerous that very few would risk using, never mind making, it. At one point the Ministry had even tried to ban it, stating that the benefits gained from its use far outweighed its unstable nature. Many a witch and wizard had died in the past, willing to risk their lives for a brief moment of enhanced power, before crumbling to dust as they were unable to siphon it off quickly enough.

Hermione reread the spell again, the growing panic fading when she saw that the final potion was not to be taken internally, but was to be spread upon the caster’s wand hand. She’d never heard of that before, but the spell was old, harking back to a time when magic was used in a less precise way. Regardless, it was the only option they had.

“We won’t be able to get the Shadow essence,” Theo murmured at her side. “It’s virtually impossible to obtain.”

Hermione chewed on her lip as she thought it over. “Maybe one of the elves could-”

“What are you two twittering about?” Lucius interrupted.

“We need Shadow essence for the spell to work,” she replied, frowning at the scrawled writing. “Do you think the elves would be able to get any?”

Malfoy tapped his cane on the floor and gave her a disgusted look. “Shadow essence? Why not ask for the moon, Miss Granger? It would be easier to obtain.” He turned his head to Dolohov and Lestrange, the pale strands of his hair sliding across his shoulders. “Do you know the location of any other than the small vial kept in the Ministry’s vaults?”

They both shook their heads and sneered at Hermione as if it were her fault that it wasn’t readily available. Lucius narrowed his eyes and brushed a hand down his robes, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles. “Then we shall have to try Severus’ personal supply of potions.”

“We need some other things as well,” Hermione said, grabbing the spell. “Call Twippy and I’ll read her the list.”

“Fucking Mudblood!” Antonin hissed. “You don’t give orders here, filth.” He strode towards her, backing her into the table. The blunt edge dug into the back of her thighs as his hands came down to rest on either side of her, barring any escape. She was trapped; the chance to use her wand gone.

Fear raced along Hermione’s skin, her breath freezing when Dolohov pressed his pelvis into her hips. His dark eyes spat hatred at her and every sense told her to run. To hide.

“Tell him to back off,” Hermione hissed, turning her head to Malfoy. “You made a vow!”

Lucius cocked an eyebrow, his lips twisting into a sneer. “My dear girl, is Antonin hurting you?”

Hermione felt Dolohov slide closer, his scalding breath fanning her cheek and the edge of her lips. She fisted her hands, her neatly trimmed nails digging into her palms as she fought the urge to shove him away. “No,” she gritted out through clenched teeth.

It was true. Dolohov wasn’t hurting her. He was invading the hell out of her personal space and trying to intimidate her, but he wasn’t actually hurting her.

“Well then. Do stop fussing,” Lucius replied in that condescending way she detested. “We must find a way to obtain the ingredients.”

“Twippy can-” Hermione’s words faded when Dolohov placed his teeth against the swell of her cheek. He bit with enough force to hold her skin, but not cause her physical pain. She flinched when his tongue flicked out, leaving a line of wetness behind.

“Twippy cannot retrieve the necessary items, Miss Granger,” Lucius drawled, walking towards them. “Severus’ rooms are warded against unwanted intruders, elves included, and his potion’s cabinet is littered with more traps than Weasley’s have children.”

Hermione heard Draco chuckle, but couldn’t move to glare at him with Dolohov’s teeth still holding the apple of her cheek. She could see Lucius though. He had a malicious smile curling the edges of his lips. He was enjoying her discomfort, drinking up the sight of her quivering in Dolohov’s deadly embrace. Hermione felt a rush of anger shoot through her. She knew what he was doing. It was as clear as a pane of glass. Malfoy was trying to take back the power in their uneasy alliance. Well, Hermione wasn’t going to let him. Maintaining eye contact, she pushed her cheek into Dolohov’s teeth, clenching her jaw when the pressure began to sting. Dolohov huffed out a surprised breath, bathing her skin in damp heat.

“Ah-ah, my dear. That won’t work,” Lucius said, inching towards them. “You are hurting yourself,” he paused next to her, dipping his head until his lips touched her ear, “and that doesn’t count.”

Hermione felt the truth of his words hit her like a slap to the face. She wriggled, trying to free herself from Dolohov’s bite. But he refused to let go. She froze, frantically thinking of a way to make him back off. What she needed was for him to lose his temper, to inflict pain and invoke the vow. So she he did the only thing she could think of; she raised her hand and brushed it gently across his waist in an intimate caress.

Almost at once he stiffened, his teeth releasing her and breath hissing out. “Bitch,” he spat, outraged that she would dare touch him in such a way.

She repeated the move and saw the exact moment when he lost it. His eyes widened and he shoved Lucius away. The blond stumbled and called out a warning. But it was too late. Dolohov’s temper had snapped. His spidery hands grasped Hermione’s throat and squeezed until she saw black spots dance across her vision. It lasted no more than a second before she saw the blurred shape of Lucius’ cane swing into view. The thud as it hit Dolohov’s arms was deafening in the silent room. The Death Eater let out a grunt, his hands dropping from Hermione’s neck as he bent over, clutching his wrists to his chest.

“Lestrange!” Lucius barked. “Take him into the Restricted Section until his senses have returned.”

Rabastan darted forward, scooping his arms around Dolohov and pulling him away from Hermione. The look he gave her could have split ice. She glared back, but it lost its punch when a coughing fit nearly knocked her off her feet.

A hand gripped the top of her arm, pulling her upright. “Are you satisfied now, Miss Granger?” Lucius coolly enquired. “Or do you wish to invite more attacks against your person?”

“If you would-”

“Enough!” He let go of her arm and made to reach for the page containing the spell. His pale hand stark against his black robes.

Before he could reach it, Hermione muttered a spell that caused the dry paper to crumble into dust.

“For fucks sake, Granger!” Draco yelled. “Why did you do that?”

Hermione swallowed, wincing when the motion caused a shard of pain to tumble around the back of her throat. “Did you really think I’d let you have the spell?” She was speaking to Draco, but kept her eyes trained on Lucius. The muscle on the right side of his jaw was ticking and there was a cruel glint in his silver eyes.

“What now then, my dear? Hmm?” Lucius finally asked.

Hermione pulled in a slow breath. “You ask Twippy to find any survivors. Have her give them brooms and tell them to come here.” She glanced at Draco and then Theo. “We’re going to need each other if we want to have any chance of making it to the wards and out of here. As soon as an Order member arrives, I’ll jump on their broom and we can go to Professor Snape’s-”

“I think not,” Lucius scoffed. “I will be going with you to collect the necessary ingredients and no other.” His voice had a smooth authority that she instantly wanted to shred with her nails. “Once our task is complete, we will reconvene with the others at Malfoy Manor. Before we leave, I will instruct them to-”

“But I think-” Hermione interjected.

Lucius spun to face her, the quick movement startling her into silence. The veneer of control he wore like a cloak slipped as he regarded her. “It will happen that way or not at all, Miss Granger,” Lucius ground out. “It is I whom is in command of an elf capable of contacting your friends. And if you want them to remain buried in the rubble then I suggest you continue to interrupt me and pepper me with your thoughts. I assure you, I will be more than happy to oblige.”

She stiffened at his outburst and narrowed her eyes. “I think,” she said, emphasizing her words, “it would be best if we leave as they’re arriving, More people in the air will mean less chance of being caught.”

“You wish to use your friends as cannon fodder? How very ruthless of you, Miss Granger,” he said with a cold smile.

“That’s not what I meant!” she protested.

“And yet you said it,” he drawled in that cultured tone that was both hypnotic and infuriating.

“I was being practical!” She glanced at Draco, who was smirking and shaking his head. “Practical and ruthless aren’t the same thing!”

Draco huffed out a laugh. “Whatever lets you sleep at night, Granger.”

Hermione was about to reply when Dolohov and Lestrange returned, scuttling into the light like two bad-tempered children.

“You heard?” Lucius enquired and continued at their nod. “All conflict will be put aside for the time being. Do I make myself clear?” Once again the two Death Eaters nodded. It was a slow, reluctant bob of the head, but a nod nonetheless.

“Excellent.” Lucius turned until he was facing his son. “You will see that everyone is suitably paired to make the flight to the wards. No mistakes, Draco. One witch or wizard capable of producing a patronus and another capable of firing an Incendio. Once through the wards, instruct everyone to apparate to Malfoy Manor. It will be your job to ensure the house is suitably secure for our….guests.”

Hermione saw Draco’s face pale at the responsibility being thrust upon him, but she couldn’t dredge up a shred of sympathy for the blond. Her mind was too caught up on thoughts of Ron and the others to spare Draco a thought. She would soon find out whether or not they had survived and the knowledge made her feel sick to the stomach. She swallowed, her eyes darting to Lucius as he prepared to call for Twippy.

She almost didn’t want him to. What if Ron was dead or injured? Would she even see him at all if Lucius and her left while they were arriving? She cursed her own stupid plan, but couldn’t see any other way of making it past the Dementors. They needed the distraction.

“Twippy!” Lucius barked, pulling her attention back to him.

He looked completely at ease amongst the rubble and shifting dust as he waited for the elf to appear. His black robes were so dark and rich they looked cavernous. It was several long moments before Twippy popped into existence, her liquid eyes watching Lucius with an admiration Hermione would never understand. To her surprise, Lucius bent down and began murmuring instructions to the elf. She frowned, unhappy with not being able to hear what was being said. Her suspicion grew when the conversation lengthened.

“You think it will work, Granger?”

Hermione jumped as Theo appeared beside her. “It has to,” she replied.

The young Slytherin grimaced and seemed as though he was about to say something, but then his lips thinned into an angry line and sealed the words inside. His eyes were fixed on Hermione’s neck and she frowned in confusion before lifting a hand to prod at her throat. She winced at the dull ache the action caused, scowling when she realised her neck must be bruised. Sighing, she dropped her hand and faced Lucius.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

The blond wizard threw her a disgruntled look, clearly peeved that she was speaking to him. “Now my dear, we wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long guys.


	8. Chapter Eight

They waited for an hour. An endless hour in which Hermione almost drove herself mad with worry. The others had ceased to glare at her as she paced up and down, instead sitting in a loose group at the table and ignoring her growing panic. There were a thousand things that could go wrong and no matter how much she racked her brain, she couldn’t come up with a solution to ease the ever growing sense of danger she felt.

Twippy had appeared several times to speak to Lucius and that had increased Hermione’s suspicion that he had planned something without her knowledge. But whenever she tried to creep near enough to hear their conversation, the hiss of a muffling charm filled her ears with static buzz. After several attempts she’d given up trying to eavesdrop and returned to her worrying. Her boots scraped the floor as she turned and, distracted by the unfurling list of protection spells inside her head, she didn’t notice the Death Eaters push to their feet in unison.

“It’s time.”

Lucius’ careless voice sliced through the silence. His words caused Hermione to freeze in momentary fear before a surge of adrenalin crashed into her heart. She pressed a palm to her breastbone, appalled by the rapid thud she could feel inside her chest. The world spun and for a second she thought she might pass out, but then she fixed her eyes on Lucius’ calm facade and forced herself to breathe.

“Is everyone ready?” he asked, speaking to the other Death Eaters, but keeping his impenetrable gaze on Draco.

Hermione watched as the younger Malfoy lifted his chin and gave a sharp nod. “I’m ready,” he said with only the slightest quiver shading his voice.

Once more, she wondered what it would be like to have such an unfeeling father. Draco was clearly petrified and yet Lucius did nothing to ease his fears; he didn’t even appear to notice them. And if he did, they were swiftly ignored in favour of the task at hand. Satisfied with his son’s assurance, Lucius moved his attention to the others. 

“Twippy!” he called.

Confusion slid across Hermione’s skin as the petite elf appeared carrying four new brooms. “What’s happening?” she asked as the elf handed them to Rabastan, Antonin, Draco and Theo.

“A change of plan,” Lucius said, retrieving his own broom and gesturing for her to approach. A smirk hovered on the contours of his lips at her suspicious frown.

“On the signal,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “What signal?” She darted forward, fumbling her wand into her hand. “You didn’t tell me about any signal!”

“Don’t be absurd you stupid girl,” he hissed. “Without a signal how is anyone to know the time to implement the plan has arrived.” He grabbed her wrist and began to pull her towards the caved in area where they’d blasted through the stone to reach the library.

Hermione had to run to keep up with his ground-eating stride and she stumbled on the stones that littered the ground several times. Draco and the others were just behind them and the sound of their rushed breaths bounced off the dusty walls to form a macabre echo that followed their every step. It was happening so fast that Hermione barely had time to think. Lucius Malfoy was up to something, she knew it with every fibre of her being, but she couldn’t figure out what it was.

They made it to the rubble-filled corridor and the writhing Inferi trapped beneath the stone. The creature rasped out a breath when it saw them and reached up with skeletal arms, its empty eyes seeming to stare right at her as it sought to free itself. Lucius paused to exchange a glance with the others before he dropped Hermione’s wrist and climbed onto his broom with effortless grace. He gestured impatiently for her to join him. She did so with a little more ease than the first time, adrenalin stealing her fear of flying and the Death Eater she would be clinging to.

“On my word,” he commanded, kicking off the ground.

Hermione tightened her grip on the wand and widened her eyes as a high-pitched whistle tore through the silence.

“Now!” Lucius called.

Every wand but Hermione’s pointed at the piled stones which blocked their exit.

“Bombarda Maxima!” 

Jets of white light shot from the tips of their wands to hit the rocks. They imploded with a loud boom before filling the air with dust and grit. It rained down on them as their brooms burst forward and into the ice-shrouded night. Hermione spotted the dark forms of the Dementors as they floated in the air above the broken shell that Hogwarts had become. Their robes rippled in a wind that she could neither feel nor see and doubted existed in this world. Several more explosions sounded and then the silhouettes of witches and wizards darted into view.

Hermione twisted around, earning a hiss form Lucius, and saw Draco and the others peel away to join the survivors peppering the smoke-smudged sky.

“Granger!” Lucius snapped. “Divert your attention to the task at hand or we’ll both be dead within minutes!” He pulled the broom to the side, almost upending her in the process.

She was about to yell at him to be more careful, but saw the black shape of a Dementor hovering in front of them. The cavernous confines of its hood seemed to eat the darkness and left no hint of what the face inside looked like. Despair slammed into her and the air cooled until it felt like she was drawing ice into her lungs with every breath. She ground her teeth and lifted her wand.

“Expecto patronum!”

The faded shape of her otter trickled from the tip of her wand and ambled towards the Dementor. The creature floated backwards, giving them enough room to fly past and towards the bowels of the castle. Hermione had the awful feeling that Lucius was going to plunge into the jagged hole that she could see sitting amongst the ruins. She looked over her shoulder, desperate to see if the others had made it to the wards, but both her and Lucius’ hair whipped across her face and obscured her sight. Panicked yells and the hiss of spells punctuated the night, but she couldn’t see a damn thing; all she could do was hear the chaos playing out behind her.

Lucius forced the broom into a downward spiral and the unexpected move made Hermione shunt forward until she was pressed against the length of his spine. He twisted again, skillfully evading the chasing Dementors as he flew them into the hole that she’d spied earlier. It was as if they’d been swallowed by darkness or fallen into a bottomless pit. The air seemed to be a solid presence which pressed in on them from all sides and made breathing difficult. Hermione murmured a hasty Lumos, terrified they might crash into a wall or the waiting arms of a Dementor.

The light illuminated the dank hallways of the Slytherin dungeons and showed empty space in front of them. The shifting light turned every shadow into a monster and Hermione almost fired off several defensive hexes in reflex.

“Severus’ office is just ahead,” Lucius murmured.

Hermione took his word for it. The dancing shadows and damp walls were unfamiliar to her and with Dementors chasing them, she didn’t have the time to study their exact location. She pressed closer to Lucius’ back as she twisted around to check the hall behind them. It appeared deserted, but Hermione could feel the taint of despair that saturated the air and grew stronger with every second that ticked by. Something was following them.

They swerved around a corner, down a flight of stairs and towards a thick wooden door. It glowed faintly in the dull light, no doubt warded within an inch of its life. Lucius sped towards it, halting at the last second, which caused Hermione to topple from the broom and into the rough wall. She hit it with a dull thud, whimpering when her head connected with the hard stone. Her vision blurred, but she ignored it in favour of pushing to her feet and extending her wand towards the dark hallway behind them. Somewhere to her side Lucius was fiddling with the wards, whispering spells as he fought to unward Snape’s door.

Hermione muttered a charm which would increase the strength of her Lumos and took a few wobbly steps away from him. The hallway was full of rippling shadows, damp air and the feeling that something was watching them.

“Hurry up!” she hissed at Lucius.

The elder Malfoy ignored her.

Hermione huffed, barely containing the urge to push him aside and attempt to undo the wards herself. The only thing that prevented her was that she knew he would be more familiar with Professor Snape’s spells than she was.

Something warm trickled down her neck. She lifted a hand to brush it away, but paused when she felt liquid touch her fingertips. Bringing her hand down, she saw blood slide across her skin before dripping to the floor where it was immediately soaked up by the dust. Her eyes flicked back up to the hall as she used one hand to probe at the back of her head and the other to keep her wand pointed in front of her. Her hair was damp and when she carefully separated a few strands, she could feel a cut above her left ear. She winced and dropped her hand, knowing it would have to wait until later.

If there was a later.

Behind her Malfoy cursed and she thought she heard him call Snape a few less than complimentary names, but she didn’t hear what he said because the sound of something moving beyond the darkness sounded. It was a dragging noise, as if whatever was making it was pulling itself across the ground towards them.

“Malfoy!” Hermione backed up until she felt the back of his robes brush her legs. “Hurry up!”

“Do you believe for one moment that I am dawdling, Miss Granger?” He tapped his wand twice against the handle of the door. “Because I assure you, I am not.”

“Just hurry,” Hermione said. “There’s something coming.”

His response was to pass her his broom so that he could spread his hand along the door’s oily surface. He whispered a few more words and then held still for an endless moment. Hermione’s heart felt like it had crawled into her throat and she was sure her eyes must resemble a startled deer’s as she stared at where the crawling sound was coming from. A dark outline emerged from the shadows and Hermione stumbled back just as Lucius managed to snap the wards. A whoosh of cool air touched her skin as the door to the Head of Slytherin’s private quarters swung open.

Her foot tangled with the broom and she fell into him, knocking them both to the ground. She landed on Malfoy’s back, somehow managing to hit him with the handle of her wand. He hissed, shoved her off him and in one smooth motion, pushed to his feet and slammed the door closed. Something thumped against it a second later.

“How delightful, my dear. We can now add clumsy to your list of attributes. Well done,” Lucius drawled as he brushed off his robes with meticulous precision.

Hermione glared at him from her position on the ground, but didn’t respond, instead she switched her attention to their surroundings. Professor Snape’s quarters were nothing like she’d expected them to be. They were decadent and surprisingly light. He must have had candles charmed to ignite when someone entered the room, because each of the cream candles dotted about threw out a cheerful warm glow. Thick rugs peppered the floor and a large velvet couch took up one wall. The others were covered by bookcases filled with hundreds of leather-bound books, each containing information that Hermione would offer up a small body part to get a hold of. The air smelt of parchment and ink. If these were her rooms, she would spend hours sitting on the couch and turning page after slick page, absorbing the information until her eyes resembled dried up husks.

“When you’ve finished drooling over books you could never hope to afford, perhaps we can move on to what we came here to do?” Lucius’ condescending tone slashed through her daydream like a knife.

But unfortunately, he was right. They needed the ingredients to make the potion and dreaming about books wasn’t going to make that happen. Hermione pulled her eyes from the bookshelves and onto the blond wizard. She nodded and regained her feet, watching as he made his way towards a door tucked beside the couch. She hadn’t noticed it at first because it was the same patchy grey as the wall next to it, but now that she knew it was there, it was quite obvious. Lucius already stood in front of it and because his back was to her, Hermione noticed there was a smear of her blood on the tips of his hair. It looked very red against his perfect, silver-white strands. She opened her mouth to tell him, but he chose that moment to turn and give her a disgusted look.

She smiled sweetly and hoped her blood would stain his hair until the day he died. It was the least he deserved.

“His laboratory is through there?” she asked.

Lucius gave a dramatic sigh. “Why else would I be standing here?”

“Because you think it makes you look good?” Hermione muttered under her breath.

Her words earned a sharp look from Malfoy, but before he could reply she said, “Please just open the door.”

Lucius surprised her by doing exactly what she’d asked. Perhaps he was as bone-tired as she was and wanted the day over with just as much. Beyond the door was a staircase which led down and into a fully stocked lab that smelt of burnt amber and crushed grass. Every surface was cluttered with glass jars and copper pots. Several large cauldrons were sat on top of a work bench that almost split the room in two. In the far corner, a huge cabinet stood, as if it were on guard duty, and anyone who dared take one of the potions that battled for room on the shelves would be gobbled up into its boxy interior and never seen again. Professor Snape’s angry scrawl decorated the labels of each of the bottles and covered each of the parchments she could see strewn about the room.

“Tell me the list and I shall collect the ingredients needed,” Lucius commanded in that arrogant way that seemed so effortless to him.

Hermione smiled tightly. “Willow bark, black salt, unicorn dust, goblin spit, hemlock, devil’s snare, mermaids tears and, of course, the Shadow essence.”

She saw Lucius’ surprise at her willingness to give up the list so easily and she shrugged. “Knowing the ingredients won’t mean anything if you don’t know which order to use them in.”

Malfoy offered her a polite smile, but there was a predatory look in his pale eyes that screamed of the danger she was in. It was so easy to forget who he was. What he was. That carefully crafted veneer he wore hid the real Lucius Malfoy exceedingly well, but Hermione wasn’t fooled in the slightest. He had no conscience, empathy, or kindness in him. He was more of a monster than the ones waiting outside.

“Shall we?” she said, walking towards the back row of shelves and beginning to search for what they needed.

It was a moment before she heard him move and when he did, it was towards the other side of the room, which she was glad of. She returned her attention to the jars in front of her. She expected the rarer stuff to be locked away, perhaps in the stern-looking cabinet, but the willow bark, black salt, hemlock and devil’s snare should be somewhere on the shelves surrounding them. Hermione leant closer to the bottles, gently pushing each aside to read the labels through narrowed eyes.

It took a long time before they located the first ingredient; hemlock, crammed into a small brown bottle and pushed to the back of a drawer. By this time, Hermione had begun to feel woozy. Her head ached and dizziness nipped at the edges of her vision. Sound became distorted until she felt that she had slipped into another world. Her name was called and she turned as if in a dream to see Malfoy frowning at her.

“I don’t feel so good,” she murmured as the world tilted nauseatingly. She caught a blurred glimpse of Lucius’ irritated features before promptly fainting.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed it! I'll be uploading more chapters within the next few days. The delightful CatherineMorgenstern edited this piece. She read through, altered words, re-arranged sentences and gave me endless support. Thanks dear.


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